Faramir Fiction Archive

Seeking (G)

Written by Shireling

27 June 2005 | 45981 words

Chapter 7>

“I think that perhaps our little Halfling friend had the right idea, Estel!”

I was sitting at the breakfast table with Arwen and Lord Elrond when my Ada’s words pulled my attention from the document I was reading.

“Ada?”

“I have been thinking on how best to help young Faramir! It is clear our softly, softly approach is not working. He is not facing up to his grief nor is he allowing anyone close enough to help him. Young Pippin’s tantrum last evening forced him to confront his feelings, even if he did still keep a tight rein on his emotions.”

“I know, Ada, but I don’t know how to help him. Legolas has made some progress but even he is kept at arms length and after their confrontation last night I’m not even sure that that small progress may not have been sabotaged! You saw how angry Faramir was with Legolas and I don’t believe they had the opportunity to make their peace.”

Ada nodded, acknowledging my comment and for a while he remained silent, his eyes closed in his familiar expression of quiet contemplation.

“Let me ask you, my Son. What do you consider to be the greatest hurdle you face in helping Faramir?”

I took a moment to consider all that I had learned and seen of Faramir’s behaviour and his reactions to his current situation. “His grief!” I said.

“Grief is one of the problems certainly, but what is preventing you from helping him to deal with his losses?”

“His reserve! His ability to lock his emotions deep within himself,” I replied, suddenly ‘seeing’ what my wise Ada was trying to tell me. Ada’s smile encouraged me to keep thinking, to keep talking my thoughts aloud.

“By locking his feelings deep within himself and by locking us out he is protecting himself… he is frightened… terrified of the possibility that should he release his grip he will be overwhelmed. His Father’s legacy, no doubt… to show emotions is to show weakness! And he must always be strong, be in command, to uphold honour and duty in the only way he has ever known!” I exclaimed with sudden understanding.

“Yes, my Son, he is fighting a constant battle against himself and the only way he can achieve a ‘victory’ is to subjugate his emotions so that they do not threaten his sense of self.”

“So how do we help him? How do I help him?” I groaned, wanting someone, anyone to help me untangle this conundrum.

“By breaking through the barriers he has erected… by forcing him to confront his pain… by whatever means necessary!”

“You cannot expect me to deal with him as his father did!”

“No, of course not. But you must understand that for Faramir that was his Father’s way of expressing his ‘care’. Brutal and sadistic as it seems to us, that was all he knew… he accepted his Father’s beatings, not only out of duty but because he believed that that was what he deserved… that his father was attempting to rid him of his weakness, to make him stronger!”

“But that doesn’t help me! I will not stoop to his father’s methods and yet I cannot subject him to my care, my discipline, if he cannot accept all that goes with it, the correction and the comfort!” I growled in my frustration.

“Then you must find a way to get him to accept it.”

Further discussion was halted when Legolas arrived, a roll of parchment in his hand and a look of concern gracing his fair features. It takes a lot to disturb my fair Prince’s composure and his expression and agitation were clear indications that what troubled him was serious.

“Faramir has gone!” he announced, his voice tight with agitation.

“Gone? What do you mean gone? Gone where?”

“I don’t know… away… out of the city!”

“When?”

“During the night… I don’t know… none saw him leave!”

“Don’t we have guards, weren’t the city gates secured?” I thundered.

“Yes, we have guards and yes, the city gates were all manned and secured… but none saw him leave!” Legolas was clearly distressed and my anger was not directed at him. I forced myself to calm and drew him down to the seat at my side.

“I’m sorry, my friend. Start at the beginning and tell us what you know,” I urged him.

“I took my rest in the garden, last evening,” he began. “I was worried about Faramir; I was worried how he would react after that episode with Pippin, coming as it did on the shoulders of his earlier distress. I knew he was angry with me but I wanted to be close by in case he had another bad night!” He flashed us a wry grimace, “I wasn’t convinced that he would take the medicine you gave him, My Lord.”

“It appears your fears were not without merit, Legolas!” Lord Elrond confirmed.

“Anyway, my reverie was not disturbed and I woke at dawn with a feeling of relief that he must have had a good night’s rest. I didn’t return immediately to my chambers as I was enjoying the serenity of the garden. When I eventually made my way to my room I found this,” he indicated the roll of parchment, “tucked under the outer handle of my door. I read the message and went at once to his chambers. The outer door was bolted and I climbed up and gained entrance via the window. His bedchamber was empty, his bed not slept in. A quick search of his room revealed that his travelling clothes were missing, as were his weapons and his travelling pack.

“I went at once to check with the guards but not one claimed to have seen anything suspicious… he had not passed through any of the gates between the Levels nor had he had the main gate opened. Next I went to the stables, his horse and saddle had not been taken… all horses and tack is accounted for; wherever he has gone he is on foot.”

“May I see the message, Legolas?” I asked, reaching out to take the parchment from his rigid grasp. He released it to me and I unfurled it to see Faramir’s distinctive, elegant penmanship.

Legolas

First let me begin by offering you my sincere apologies. I behaved badly and allowed my temper to override good sense and manners. I should not have taken my frustration out on you, especially as you have shown me nothing but kindness. I realise that in telling the King and Lord Elrond about my disturbed sleep you were acting in what you believed to be my best interest. I can only think that my anger stemmed from my shame that, once again, my weakness was being displayed to those whose good opinion I valued. I suspect now that my two ‘nursemaids’ have no illusions as to my suitability to continue in my present Office. I can only hope that, in time, I may convince them that I do indeed have some redeeming qualities.

I must also ask you to forgive me for involving you in my current actions. I do not wish to leave without offering some explanation nor do I wish to add to the worries of those who have offered me their friendship. I would ask you, therefore, to convey to his Majesty the news of my departure and to reassure him that I go with only honourable intentions.

_My decision to leave may appear hasty and without thought to the consequences but I fear I can see no alternative. I must get away from the City. I can no longer bear the oppression of unrelenting memories nor the constant scrutiny of those about me. I cannot breathe; the very air seems to suck all hope and optimism from me, leaving me nothing to offer in return for the kindness and care of those who seek to help me. _

There is no help that I can see.

You were not the only one wounded by my behaviour and actions yesterday. I am deeply shamed that my actions have upset two gentle beings who deservered only my care and support. How could I have hurt two such innocents with my thoughtless and selfish behaviour? That poor Pippin should believe that I was ashamed of Boromir, that my silence stemmed from my disgust at his actions was like a knife to my heart. And yet I do not blame Pippin for his belief for it was rooted in my own actions.

But in trying to comfort and reassure Pippin I was struck by another blow; in trying to recall memories of Boromir to share with my little Knight I realised that I can no longer find my connection to my brother. When I picture him in my mind I see only the frozen effigy of him in his Elven bier; I cannot recall the living Boromir, cannot remember his smile or the echo of his laughter, cannot recall the touch of his hand or the weight of his arm across my shoulders. I have lost all sense of him from my memory, and the thought terrifies me.

Please believe that I am not seeking to run away. I am going out to seek to reconnect with my memories, to revisit the past, to go back to a place that Boromir shared with me; a place of tranquillity and peace, a place from my childhood that holds only good and happy memories. If I cannot ‘find’ him there then I will know that he is truly lost to me and I will have to endeavour to make my peace with all that is gone.

I give you my solemn vow that I will not place myself in danger; the place I seek is safe and secluded and holds no dangers. I am well prepared and have sufficient supplies to last me for the duration of my sojourn. Please, I beg you, do not let them come after me; please ask the King to respect my wishes in this matter. I will return. I will be gone for a few days only and will return to face whatever consequences his Majesty deems appropriate.

I remain, your humble servant.

Faramir

I read the letter through twice before passing it to my Ada for his assessment. I felt a sick tightening in the pit of my stomach.

“Well, Ada! Do you still think that Pippin’s outburst was such a good thing?” I asked, trying to subdue the impulse to bash my head against the table in frustration.

“For sure, it is not the reaction I expected, but he is ever one to confound my expectations!” was Ada’s enigmatic reply.

“He must have been desperate if he felt the need to sneak off like a thief in the night!”

“Desperate, I’m sure, my Son, but desperate for what is perhaps a more interesting question?” I could tell that this was going to another of my Ada’s ‘I’ll prompt but you must work it out’ conversations.

“Desperate for what? You think this is more than a need to seek solitude?” I asked.

“Not consciously, no, but think back? What happened after his last unauthorised absence? What did he expect to happen?”

“He expected to be brought to account, to be punished.”

“And in the event, what actually happened?”

“He misunderstood my intentions and he was injured.”

“Yes, but he wasn’t punished, was he! Because he was hurt you stepped back and allowed his transgressions to go unmarked.”

“Wasn’t the hurt he suffered enough?”

“Not in his eyes, no! The hurts he suffered were self-inflicted… another sign of weakness. There was no atonement for his actions.”

“So you think he is still seeking to be punished.”

“Not exactly. I suspect that he is desperately seeking boundaries, for someone to say ‘enough’. His whole life has been regimented by his rigid sense of duty and by his father’s sanctions. Now, the duty remains but he has no one to reinforce the limits of his actions… and just when he sought to make you the final arbiter of his actions, you stepped back!”

“You think I should have beaten him!”

“No, of course not, Estel, but the truth is that he thinks you should have… in his mind he has cast you in that role. He knows that you have in the past disciplined Pippin… “

“… but I never ‘bothered’ to correct him… so now he is pushing harder to see if he can force me to react!”

“Yes, I believe that is possible, though as I said, this is not a conscious action on his part… but how else can he ‘ask’ for your attention!”

“So what now, Estel?” Legolas asked. “What do you want me to do now? Do we seek him out?”

“No. Either he is still within the Citadel in some secret bolt-hole or he has some means of escaping the confines of the City without detection… I suspect the latter. Remember he has known this city and its secrets all his life. Either way I am inclined to adhere to his wishes. He is at home in the outdoors; he is physically fit and more than adequately experienced in outdoor living. We will allow him his freedom and deal with his actions when he returns,” I explained.

I have great respect for Faramir’s skills and experience and I could only trust his assertion that he was not placing himself in danger. I have no great fear for his physical safety, my major concern remains his emotional state and with this in mind I made a decision.

“Legolas, I would like you and my brothers to ride out to the Harlond, Osgiliath and the Causeway forts. Discreetly explain the situation to the garrison commanders and ask them to be on the lookout for him. If he is spotted he is to be given an escort but must be allowed to return in his own time. I think, however, that it is unlikely he will be seen before he wishes to be, he is too skilled a Ranger to be detected.”

“And how do we explain his absence?”

“If anyone asks, just say he is away on an errand… it is no one else’s concern.”

It was on the fourth morning following my discovery of Faramir’s absence that the wanderer returned. I was sitting at the window of his bed chamber watching as the first streaks of dawn brightened the fading night’s sky when I heard his approach.

It was not the door between his two chambers that swung open but the door to a large oak clothes closet. He emerged into the room and dropped his pack and weapons onto the floor; reaching back into the closet to secure the wood and metal catch.

As the room was still dark he did not immediately detect my presence and I used the interlude to observe him. He appeared fit and unharmed; I couldn’t see his features clearly in the gloom but his posture and demeanour spoke to me of tiredness, bordering on exhaustion. Without bothering to kindle a light or set a spill to the fire he slumped down into a chair and attempted to toe-off his boots.

“Would you like some help with those!” I asked, pitching my voice down so as not to alarm him. I was only partially successful; he was out of his chair in a heartbeat, a small dagger in his hand, pulled from the top of his boot. I held up my hands in a gesture of reassurance.

“I might have guessed you would be the welcoming committee!” he snarled, laying his knife on the floor and returning to the task of removing his boots.

“All part of the service!” My attempt at humour fell on deaf ears and he flashed me a furious glare.

I took the opportunity to light the fire and some lanterns. With the benefit of light I could observe him better. He was grey with fatigue, dark purple shadows rimmed his eyes and his expression was one of all-encompassing melancholy. I could not keep quiet.

“You look terrible!”

“Thank you so much for that!” he obviously hadn’t the energy to maintain even a façade of calm and his response was laden with sarcasm.

“Would you rather I lied to you?”

“No. I’d rather you went away and left me in peace!…but I suspect that is not going to happen, is it?”

“No.” I grinned. He sank back into his seat, defeated. We sat for a while in silence.

“Legolas… Is he very angry?” The question came out as no more than a whisper. He didn’t look at me, just kept his gaze fixed on the dancing flames of the fire.

“Not angry, no.” I wanted to reassure him but I wouldn’t mislead him. “He has been worried, concerned, more than a little exasperated, but not angry.” I let my hand rest on his arm; he flinched and got to his feet, effectively moving away from my touch.

“I should go to him!”

“No, not yet. Let us get you sorted first!” I counselled. “A bath, a hot meal and a change of clothes first and then I will go to him and inform him of your return. You will wait here,” I ordered as gently as I could.

“But I should go … I need to face up to this!”

“Faramir, you will do as I say. You do not want to fight me on this. You will wait here and I will come for you when he is ready to see you. .” He nodded his head, accepting my instructions. “Please just rest here while I go and chivvy the staff to attend you, it will take but a moment.”

Less than an hour later I made my way to Estel’s private quarters, leaving Faramir to pick at his breakfast. I had made him promise to wait in his rooms, threatening to post a guard to stand watch when he seemed reluctant to comply with my wishes.

I explained to Estel and his Elven family that Faramir had returned, detailing the manner of his return and what I had observed of his condition.

“You do not think he has found the peace he sought?” Estel asked me.

“No!” I said sadly, “he remains burdened with sorrow. I would guess from his condition that he has found little rest or comfort in his time away from us.”

“That does not surprise me!” Lord Elrond commented. “What he sought cannot be found in solitude. The answer lies within him.”

Estel drew his Ada aside and the two conferred together, their voices too quiet for me to discern. Lord Elrond disappeared for a few moments, to return carrying another small medicine vial which he handed to Estel.

“Estel,” the Elven Lord said as he walked his foster son to the door, “what you propose is not without risk! You must proceed with caution. Faramir has been brought to the edge, to a point of crisis; it will take little to push him into the abyss.”

“I know Ada, I heed your warning but it is my intention to push him over the edge… and to be there to catch him when he falls,” he said with a determined smile, beckoning me to follow. “Come Legolas, come help me to rescue our poor troubled Steward!”

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