Faramir Fiction Archive

Senses (PG)

Written by Bell Witch

03 March 2008 | 827 words

Prompt 32: Past
Title: Sight
Author: Bell Witch
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Faramir
Rating/Warnings: PG, none
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this.
Author’s Notes: Prompt 32: Past in the 50_darkfics challenge. Written 21 November 2006. Unbetaed. First in the five senses arc. Written as part of a writer’s workshop for an online RPG (role-playing game.)

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Darkness, flickering light. Except that’s only one layer because I see yellowing grasses and the looming ruin as well, almost close enough to pick out individual figures, or imagine I do. I know they’re there, hiding in shadows and crumbled buildings. Out of the corners of my eyes are flashes of horses, glints of light off armour. I know what’s in their eyes, the same look as mine with the exception of one thing. They do not have the cold, grey memory of a stare filled with contempt to send them on this journey, likely the last we’ll ever take.

Prompt 31: Flame
Title: Sound
Author: Bell Witch
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Faramir
Rating/Warnings: PG, none
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this.
Author’s Notes: Prompt 31: Flame in the 50_darkfics challenge. Written 21 November 2006. Unbetaed. Second in the five senses arc. Written as part of a writer’s workshop for an online RPG (role-playing game.)

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Roaring, whispering, crackles and sighs. There is a familiar voice amid the babbling crowd, but such an unfamiliar tone. ‘Burning, he is already burning.’ The words are simple, heartfelt, full of concern. Boromir died so far away—I saw his body floating down the river in a boat in a dream. He didn’t burn, my lord, though I know your sadness. It’s not the voice you use for me but the one enriched with love. If only… There’s a solid strength that I remember mixed in with the timbre of despair. I would mourn with you if you let me.

Prompt 35: Oath
Title: Touch
Author: Bell Witch
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Faramir
Rating/Warnings: PG, none
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this.
Author’s Notes: Prompt 35: Oath in the 50_darkfics challenge. Written 21 November 2006. Unbetaed. Third in the five senses arc. Written as part of a writer’s workshop for an online RPG (role-playing game.)

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Smothering, crushing, all-encompassing heat. A hard bed made of rough wood but not a boat to float down the Anduin as did my brother’s body. Unfinished boards, logs with bark on them and nothing to soften my rest. The blistering air is not the only thing filled with fire. My side, my shoulder smoulder within and my head throbs in time with my heart. The ache there is the most unbearable thing, shattered and hollow now, knowing my father’s wish that I be the one to die. I went as you ordered, having the courage to do my lord’s will.

Prompt 33: Present
Title: Scent
Author: Bell Witch
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Faramir
Rating/Warnings: PG, none
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this.
Author’s Notes: Prompt 33: Present in the 50_darkfics challenge. Written 21 November 2006. Unbetaed. Fourth in the five senses arc. Written as part of a writer’s workshop for an online RPG (role-playing game.)

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Pungent, acrid, charred stench. Oil and pitch combine with the perfume of court clothes, traces of soap. The tang of sweat has covered the more pleasant smells and the strange mustiness of the atmosphere, as though this space were long unused. That fades as the scent of ash grows and grows with each passing moment. The wood burns, the reek of burnt oil and something else surrounds, enters me. Cloth and hair, but why are such things on fire? We need to help, need to put it out! The stink of fear is all round—there’s someone in the fire!

Prompt 15: Angry
Title: Taste
Author: Bell Witch
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Faramir
Rating/Warnings: PG, none
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this.
Author’s Notes: Prompt 15: Angry in the 50_darkfics challenge. Written 21 November 2006. Unbetaed. Fifth in the five senses arc. Written as part of a writer’s workshop for an online RPG (role-playing game.)

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Harsh, burnt, unsavoury essence. My tongue is surrounded with bile, no sweetness of wine to wash it away. Not even the cool, clear flavour of water to clean my mouth of this last meal. What was it that I feasted upon? The cooks burnt the meat on the outside, left in raw within. It tastes of metal, blood and… seasoned with sorrow and despair. Who gave such a last meal, so unfulfilling and sour? The table was laid for one only, it was not for the soldier to eat. The food you enjoyed was well-prepared, my lord: mine was bitter.

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