Faramir Fiction Archive

Tales from a Cat's Eye View (PG)

Written by Susana

03 September 2011 | 6650 words

Title: Not Because of That
Author: Susana
Series: Desperate Hours, Tales from a Cat’s Eye View, 1
Feedback: Please use the form below
Rating: PG
Warning: Mention of spanking.
Disclaimer: All recognizable elements are Tolkien’s

Summary: A story of one of Ecthelion the Cat and Ancalime the Cat’s descendants.

Beta: None, all mistakes are mine.

A/N: Faramir is just fourteen in this story.

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Not Because of That

Trouble paused, whiskers twitching. This was the boy who had made the bad dog go away. Why was he disembarking here, they were not back at the sea castle home yet. Trouble ran up to the boy and meowed frantically. Well, not frantically. Trouble was a great hunter and warrior. She meowed with dignified urgency.

The boy turned, he had always understood her people well. Better even than the dark-haired Prince and his children, and they were better speakers of cat than any other humans Trouble’s people had ever known. The boy stroked Trouble’s soft silver-gray and black striped fur gently, and spoke to her in the humans’ language, his gray eyes kind, his red-gold hair waving in the breeze. The boy meant to leave, to go back to his stone city.

Trouble hissed at the dark-haired Prince who was her owner. He should not have been so thorough in chastising this boy. This boy was good.

The dark-haired Prince rolled his eyes. “Faramir, tell Trouble that you are not leaving because I spanked you.”

“You paddled me, Uncle Imrahil. And I don’t see why Trouble needs to know that, one way or another.” The boy whispered, his pale cheeks flushing. Trouble narrowed her eyes and lashed her tail. She had never bitten the dark-haired Prince before, but if the boy left…

“Faramir, I am not jesting with you. Tell the cat that you are leaving because it is time for you to go back to your father and brother, and not because I punished you, or I will spank you.” The dark-haired Prince ordered.

The boy looked sad. “I don’t understand.”

The dark-haired Prince sighed. “Sorry, I forget sometimes that you don’t know the cats of Dol Amroth as we do. Trouble is the current matriarch, and if she takes a dislike to someone, the cats will all leave that ship. I’ve had sailors have to go on short rations because their food-stores were overrun by vermin. Please, just tell the cat that you’re not leaving because I gave you a well-earned paddling.”

The boy frowned, but knelt to do as he had been bid. “Its not …because of that, Trouble, miel-nin. I am leaving because I was only visiting, and I must go home. My brother would miss me.”

Trouble did not approve, but she understood that her boy was not leaving because of anything the dark-haired Prince had done. After all, her boy was not full-grown, and a half-grown kitten would have been smacked with a paw for fighting a kraken of that size. The boy stroked Trouble’s smooth head one last time, before turning to embrace the dark-haired Prince.

“No more wrestling sea-monsters, please, nephew.” The dark-haired man said, with tears in his eyes.

The boy gave a choked laugh. “No more sea monsters, at least not for awhile.” He gave the dark-haired Prince a brave smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I have enough monsters of other sorts to deal with.”

“I know that you do. Rely on Boromir, and my man in Minas Tirith, and for Eru’s sake, have a care.” The dark-haired Prince lectured, love and fear in his voice.

Trouble stiffened. The boy was being sent back alone, into a predator’s lair. The dark-haired Prince didn’t want to send him. It was a new thought to Trouble, that there might be a human more powerful than the dark-haired Prince and his sire.

“I’m always careful, Uncle.” The boy assured. The dark-haired Prince smiled, but to Trouble, he smelled even more worried.

Trouble paused. The elder cats said her long-mother, called by the humans Ancalime, had come from a further away place. A place with strange smells, where cats were almost worshiped, where they kept humans in cages. Ancalime had saved the life of He-Whose-Boots-Smelled-Of-Fish, and when Ancalime had been caught by a mean seller of fish, Fish Boots had saved her. Fish Boots had given Ancalime to the dark-haired Prince’s mate, and that was how Trouble’s mother’s line had come to the sea castle home.

Gathering her courage, Trouble meowed to Stalker, “The watch is yours, sister. I have made Ancalime’s choice.” Then Trouble leapt on top of the bag carried by her boy, butting his face gently with her own.

The dark-haired Prince sighed. “Bid her good-bye again, Faramir.”

“Ah…she says that she’s coming with me. That Stalker will take care of the ships now.” The boy said, startled.

“I…see.” The dark-haired Prince replied. “Well, I suppose she will be easier to explain to your brother than Sergeant Menohtar.”

“Admiral m’Lord?” The sergeant who smelled like the dark-haired Prince inquired alertly.

“Menohtar, you are not going back to Minas Tirith with Faramir. That I could not explain to Boromir, or Denethor.”

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