Faramir Fiction Archive

Under the broken sky (R)

Written by Fëawen

22 November 2009 | 21704 words | Work in Progress

IV

The dining room was filled with laughter and music. Merry and Pippin were trying to teach Elladan some songs and dances from the Shire. Arwen sat next to Legolas with a glass of wine in her right hand and the other covered over her mouth to hide a giggle. It was not so ladylike to giggle and now when she was the Queen of Gondor, she had to think of how she presented herself. Legolas, on the other hand, did not seem to care that he was the Prince of Mirkwood. He half laid in Gimli’s lap with tears of amusing streaming down his face.

Gandalf, Elrond and Faramir were discussing something on the other side of the room. Or more correctly, Gandalf and Elrond discussed and Faramir listened.

Elrohir tried to teach Sam and Frodo the rules in chess. He had gotten tired of being forced to play with ‘Dan all the time.

When Aragorn entered the room he was greeted with a kiss from his wife and she slid her arm under his.

“I did not think you would join us, my love.” Aragorn did not pay any attention to her. He was heading towards Faramir.

“Estel, what are you doing?!” ‘Ro was at his side in a blink of an eye and tried to force him to stop.

“Remember our agreement, you were not supposed to speak to him so soon” ‘Dan said low enough for only Aragorn to hear it, but he neglected them.

“Faramir, is this true?” Faramir turned around with a puzzled look on his face. When he saw the book in his Liege hand, his expression went blank.

“My Lord, I do not know what You mean” His voice trembled.

“Do not lie to me, Faramir. Is this diary yours or is it not?” Aragorn was so furious that he had a hard time to find his voice.

“I do not know, Sire. I see that it could be my old diary, but there are many of them so I am not sure. May I see it, Your Majesty?” “Begging again, you idiot.” He berated himself.

“You admit that you have been writing journals, yes? You admit that you have not thrown them away, yes? So tell me then, did you keep your diaries in a wooden chest, in your childhood room, with your name engraved?” He knew that he was harsh towards his young Steward, but there was no other way.

“Yes, Sire. I admit that.” The voice was hoarse and weak.

“Then tell me. Are the things within here true or made-up stories? You are not to be afraid. I will not be angry with you. If what is written in here is just fables then please, Faramir, tell me.” Faramir felt hot and the room started to spin. This could not be happening. He had always been so careful where he had hidden his secrets. Why had he not throw those cursed books away, buried them or better burnt them?

The room was quiet and still. The only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing coming from Faramir’s chest. He was in the centre of everyone’s eyes; he was in a position so far from his usual habit of trying to blend in with the walls. He was expected to talk. He could not hide in the dark corners in the lingering shadows anymore.

“No, My Lord, they are not stories and every word is true. Would you please be so kind to give it back to me, My Lord? You should not have been reading them, My Lord” Faramir’s eyes were shiny, red and filled to the top with tears. His voice was so fragile that had it not been for the stillness his voice would not have been heard. The silence in the room was devastating, cold and motionless.

“What is all of this, Aragorn?” Gandalf’s stern voice broke the silence.

“Denethor physically abused him, Gandalf!” Before anyone had had the chance to react, Faramir had snitched the book from Aragorn’s hand.

“He did not. He only taught me how to be a son worthy of a Steward, how to behave and what actions are wrong. It was for my own good and I deserved everything.” The tears now overflowed and he sank to his knees. “Why could you not have kept it to yourself? What does any of this matter to you? You do not even know me. Now when everyone knows what a poor excuse for a human I am, I can no longer stay here. I must leave.” Aragorn stared at the young man before him. A memory of a five years old child in his lap, declaring how unworthy, weak and worthless he was, took form in his mind. This could not go on any longer. He was about to grab the man by his shoulders and force him to understand that he was none of those things and had never been. But he was too late. Elladan was already at his side.

“Faramir, listen to me. I forbid you to leave. You can not continue to hide and run away from your past. Your mind tells you that it was your fault so that it will not drive you insane. But your mind can not control your body’s memory. Your body knows that what happened is nothing you can blame yourself for. Nor could you have prevented it, you were a child.

Do you understand what I am saying? Do not dare to blame yourself for what your father did to you.” ‘Ro stared at his brother. He had never heard ‘Dan speak like this before. He turned his eyes over to Faramir who was now, curled up tight in a ball, crying. Not s sound came over his lips. It was only the shivering shoulders that exposed his feelings.

‘Ro could not stand this any more. He fell to his knees and infolded the weeping man in a gentle embrace.

“Peace, mellon-nîn⁹. I am here now. No one will ever hurt you again. Do you hear me? Cuilen an cuileg. Gurthen an cuileg. Cuilen an ngurtheg. Gurthen an ngurtheg¹⁰.”

Faramir stared up at the face of the Elf he loved so much, but could not make himself to admitting it to anyone. He had always hid such emotions, even to himself. He shrank away from the sweet embrace that he had dreamt for so long and crawled backwards. “This can not be happening. Has he just told me that he would die for me?”

“Lord Elrohir, please, I can not handle this. Why are you telling me that you would die for me? You should not be saying those things, I am unclean and you should not, could not say such thing to me. It is not seemly, it is not right.” Elrohir took the cold hands of the quivering young man.

“What is not right, Faramir? Is it not right that I hold you when you are crying? Is it not right that I tell you of my true feelings for you? Is it not right that I love you?” Faramir shook his head violently.

“You can not love me! You should not say such things. What if someone, beside your family, would hear you? You would spend the rest of your life locked away in the Sanatorium. It is not right for a man to love another of the same gender, I do not know about Elves but as long as you are within the boarders of Gondor you have to live by her rules. I do not pretend that I agree with them but as the Steward I have sworn my allegiance to the King and his land.”

The group stared at the scene that was playing in front of them. Frodo, Sam and Merry had taken shelter with Gandalf. They felt safe next to the old wizard, but now Gandalf did not have his usual stern face. He looked as he was about to cry. And he was not the only one. Arwen was hiding her distress in her husband’s broad chest and Aragorn himself was wetting her dark hair with his own salty tears. Legolas stared in confusion and Gimli’s green eyes were dark with suppressed rage. Elladan tried to comfort Pippin. The young hobbit was sitting on a small chair, his eyes were like glass and he was repeating over and over again:

“It can not be true. It can not be true. It can not be true.”

“Who told you that love between two males or two females is not as valuable as the love between a man and a woman? Love is never something you can deem to be right or wrong. Love is always right, if it is mutual.” Lord Elrond knelt down next to his son and Faramir. He placed a soothing hand on the man’s back. The gesture was not responded like the Elven Lord would have hoped. Faramir got up on his feet, with swiftness comparable to an Elf, and pressed his back against the wall. He looked so magnificent and serene in that very moment that no one could ever believe that this was the same man, who moments ago had been curled up, weeping.

“My Lords and My Lady, I thank you for a nice evening. But now I must return to my chamber and finish my work for tomorrow’s meeting. I bid You all a good night.” His gaze turned to Aragorn. “I will see You in the morning, My Liege. Is an hour before the meeting enough for You or do You wish for my service sooner.” He was once again the Steward they all knew, with his blank expression and straightened back. It was as if a drape had covered him, and that his soul had been locked away in the deepest corner of his body. He was like a shell; his skin had become a shield that seemed to be impossible to brake through.

“Faramir, you will not leave this room until we have sort things out. You do not want to argue with me on this, do you?” Gandalf rose, took Faramir’s hand and led him to the sofa.

“Mithrandir, do not trouble yourself. I am perfectly fine, just a bit tired, that is all. There is nothing to worry about. Sleep is all that I need right now.” He tried to smile, but could not. The truth was that he was too exhausted even to make his way to the chamber. And even if he tried, he would not manage it.

“Tired? Do you seriously believe that I am so easy to deceive? No my child, there is more to this than just some lack of sleep. Now sit down and tell us, what has been happening between Lord Denethor and yourself? Trust me, son. You will not begin to heal until you are able to talk about it. Do not try to forget it because you never will. It will always be a part of your life, but it is up to you if you will let the pain eat itself into your heart and soul and harden it”

Faramir stared at the party. How could he talk about what had been happening to him with all of these in the same room? It was one thing to talk to Mithrandir; he had known him for such a long time. He trusted him. But the others, they were strangers, he did not know them. How would they react when they heard how filthy he was, how weak and useless he had been all his life.

“I beg of you Mithrandir. If you have ever liked me or cared for me you will let me go. You will let me have at least some of my dignity to be maintained. I can not talk about this in front of a Lady, especially such as Lady Arwen, or in front of strangers. It is not possible.” Gandalf sighed but nodded.

“Very well then, I will do as you ask. Elrond, would you be so kind to escort your daughter, Frodo, Samwise, Meriadoc, Legolas and Gimli to the garden.” Elrond nodded, placed an arm around his daughter’s shoulders and led her outside with a subdued trail behind him. “Now you are free to tell us everything.”

“No, I can not. King Elessar is still here, so is Master Took and Lord Elladan. Not to mention Lord Elrohir. You can not seriously believe that I am going to sit here and let them all know.” Faramir tried to get up but was forced down by the Istari.

“They are all your friends, Faramir. Peregrin saved your life. Elrohir has loved you since the day he laid eyes on you in the House of Healing, Elladan comes with him given that they are inseparably and Aragorn has been your friend for a very long time, my child.” The Steward stared at him.

“It seems that I have no choice. You have put me in a very awkward situation, Mithrandir. I hope you are aware of that.” Gandalf smiled and ruffled the dark hair. He remembered a little child with hair as dark as Faramir’s and eyes as deep as his. That child had followed him everywhere when the old Wizard had visited Minas Tirith. The child was now a grown man, but still a child in so many ways.

“There is not much to tell. Father punished me when I had done something that was not suitable for a son of a Steward. Maybe he was a bit harsh sometimes, but I was never an easy child. That is it, nothing more to tell.”

“What about the time he burned your arm, what was that for? Why did he make you count the strikes he gave you? What about the time he forced himself on you? Do not coat your story in a soft blanket. I know more than you can imagine, Faramir. Now tell us the truth or I will read aloud from these books.” Aragorn was so angry; his Steward would not be permitted to make this into nothing. Faramir swallowed hard.

“I… I mean… he was…” he closed his eyes. This had always been a secret. Not even Boromir had known. Yet it was Boromir who had always been there for him. It was Boromir who had taught him how to swim; it was Boromir who had taught him how to wield a sword; it was Boromir who had comforted him when his night terrors became too hard to bear or when he had been disciplined. At least until it was time for ‘Gondor’s finest’ to begin training with the Rangers at the age of twelve. When Boromir was not there to protect him, the punishments had augmented. He had been too afraid of what Boromir might think, or what their father would do, if he told anyone about it. So he had stayed silent, or lied, when Boromir asked why he was so stiff or where he had got the black eye from.

If he had not told Boromir, how could he tell these ones?

The memories were almost like nothing but a vague impression. Something he had hidden deep within his heart and soul. Suddenly it became clear to him what Mithrandir had said. If

he kept hiding it, the secret would take over his heart and there would soon be nothing else in it. He wanted to tell them, but he could neither find the courage nor the right words.

“There is no need to be afraid. None of us will think less of you, I promise. Remember, Faramir, nothing that happened was your fault. You were a child. All children believe that their parents know best, that what is done is done for a reason. But you are not a child anymore, you are a grown man. Look deep into your heart and then tell me if you still think that it was your fault.” Elladan took Faramir’s hands in his own, he tried to free them but the Elf kept them in his own.

“Please, Faramir, allow us to help you. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Lord Elladan, I would tell you if I could. But the memories seem to be dreams more than realities. I am not sure what happened and what did not, my mind is a blur. The diaries are all that is left of that time.”

“But the diaries only tell us what happen until the day you left to join the Rangers, does that mean that everything ended then?” Elrohir sat down next to the young man and placed his hand on the thin leg. As expected, Faramir flinched, but ‘Ro let his hand lay.

“I do not know, Lord Elrohir. As I said, it seems I can not sort my memories out from my dreams.” Aragorn was watching the whole scene, playing before him, silently. But after these words he suddenly said:

“Gandalf, is there not a certain magic that could awake forgotten memories? I think that ada used it once on Glorfindel, but I am not sure.” The Wizard turned his head from the younger to the older man.

“If you are thinking about “Apantë onnalda vanwi딹¹ then it can be very dangerous. It almost cost Glorfindel his life and he is one of Middle-Earth’s most powerful Elves. You, my child,” He lifted Faramir’s head and looked into the distressed eyes.” You are only a young man, and what you have gone through was obviously too painful for your heart to live with. Glorfindel had to go through his death once more, which is why he was barely able to come back to the living. You, my child, will once again relive what ever Denethor did to you. If I can have a say in this matter, I would say that you should not do it.” Faramir met the worried eyes.

“If I do not do this I will most likely go mad. I wish to tell you all, but I can not. If I was under a spell that would control it for me, it would be a grate relief. If I would not be in command over myself, I would not feel like a betrayed my father.”

“You must be aware of that it will be most painful and if your heart and head want different things, your heart will most likely shatter and your brain will no longer be able to function? It will be Elrond who proceed further with this.” Faramir closed his eyes again and bit his lower lip. He took a deep breath and ever so slightly he nodded. When Gandalf had left the chamber he lifted his head and looked into the eyes of the Elf at his side.

“Lord Elrohir I can not continue to live with this weight on my heart any longer. I will take whatever retribution that will fall upon me, but I must say this. Lord Elrohir… I love you. My heart is aching with the love I feel for you and therefore I will go through this test. But I am afraid” He said in a voice as soft as a breeze

“Do not be, my love. I will be here to catch you when you awake, I will never leave you. Do you hear me?” ‘Ro placed a gentle kiss on one of the ice cold hands. Faramir looked puzzled.

“Do you love me?”

“I love you more than life itself. I love you as the slave loves the thought of one day have their freedom back. Let the Earth and the Sky be witnesses to what I say is true.” Big tears fell from Faramir’s eyes and he covered his face.

“Do not cry, my love. All will be well, I promise you.” He wrapped his arms around the shivering shoulders and pressed the man close to his chest.

⁹ mellon-nîn – my friend

¹⁰ Cuilen an cuileg. Gurthen an cuileg. Cuilen an ngurtheg. Gurthen an ngurtheg – My life for your life. My death for your life. My life for your death. My death for your death

¹¹ Apantë onnalda vanwië – Reveal your past

TBC

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