Hello Everyone! It is I, ThurinRanger.
This is my story.
Esgalnoron assured me that people would be interested, so I will write it down here.
He told me that my life and my challenges were interesting and people would want to read about them.
So I sit here, during nightwatch(the irresponsible Ranger that I am), and write it.
Reviews are very appreciated.
Warm October sunlight poured into the little boys' chambers.
Faramir's eye's flickered open.
He yawned.
Then it all came back to him.
"Boromir! Boromir!" He cried as he rolled his sleepy older brother out of bed. Boromir's eyes snapped open. He rushed out of the room and down the halls, Faramir trying desperately to keep up.
They skidded to a stop in front of the beloved bedchamber, tried to calm their excitement, and knocked. The door slowly opened and the little boys crept in. The air was thick, sad; nothing at all what they had expected.
Their mother lay, cradling her new baby. Boromir breathed a sigh of relief as Faramir rushed to the bed.
"No." Denethor growled, brushing Faramir away.
Faramir gazed up at his father in hurt surprise.
"No darling, let them come." Finduilas sighed softly, but her tone was firm.
Something was wrong.
Where was the usual happiness? The joy?
"Mama!" Faramir squealed in delight as he leapt onto her bed, followed closely by Boromir.
"My sons, now you have a little lady to take care of." Her voice was so weak they could barely comprehend it.
"What's 'er name?" Boromir asked, lightly touching the soft fuzzy head of his new sister. "I was thinking Fimil." Their mother whispered, thoughtfully.
"If you two are alright with that, of course."
Boromir immediately nodded, though Faramir gave it some careful consideration.
"I agree." He finally said after much meditation.
"It's settled, now go back to your chambers."
The boys had forgotten that their father was still there.
"Denethor." His wife gave him a meaningful look.
"You are too weak, they must leave you in peace-" He feebly protested.
"Darling, I must spend time with them now. Before it's too late."
Faramir's heart was suddenly filled with fear, but Boromir stopped him before he could say anything. Denethor retreated to the back of the room, and the boys obediently sat on the edge of the great bed.
"My sons," even talking was taking an effort now. "I now prepare to leave this world, but I leave you this sister; promise me that you shall take care of her and protect her." Faramir buried his face in the pillows.
"You can't go, you just can't!" He sobbed brokenly.
"It cannot be helped, love. Just promise me, both of you, that you will protect my little daughter, make sure she is happy.
Try to fill my place when I am gone.
Take care of your father, and watch over you're sister.
I love you both so much, I promise I will never forget you and I will always be in your heart if you keep me there." She ran her fingers through her sons' messy hair, and lay back with an exhausted sigh.
"Mama-" Faramir sobbed as he received her kiss for the last time.
"Goodbye my darlings." She whispered, as she bestowed the esteemed kiss on Boromir as well.
"Take care of little Fimil."
"We'll never forget you mother."
Seeing their father's murderous glances, the pair stumbled back into the hallway.
"Mama-" Faramir sobbed as Boromir held him. They sunk down against the wall, holding each other, trying to process what their mother had just told them.
Boromir swallowed hard, trying to stop the tears flowing down his face, as Faramir's muffled sobs penetrated the thick air.
Suddenly Faramir's frantic sobbing ceased to a disturbed sniffle as he heard his mother's silvery voice, weak as it was, cascade through the room and halls. The familiar lullaby, the one she had always sung to them.
Those comforting words.
Boromir peered into the room, hoping not to be spotted. There she was, though the room was dim, she seemed to be surrounded by a glorious, unearthly light.
She was cradling her babe, gazing lovingly into her small, soft face. She was singing for all of her children. Trying to help them to pull through this misfortune. And for a moment, it was impossible for either of the boys to feel truly sad.
Young as they were, they could perceive the aura of hope, happiness, and love pulsing from Finduilas.
And then the song ended.
A deathly silence filled the air.
Boromir gasped. He refused to believe it, but there was no doubting the unthinkable fact, as Denethor stalked out, a mask of anger, sadness, disbelief covering his face as he disappeared around the corner. Faramir began to move tentatively towards the door, but Boromir stopped him.
"No Faramir. We can't."
"But the baby!" Faramir sobbed as he tried to pull away from his brother's firm grasp. Just then, the boys' nurse came hurrying towards them.
"How is your-" She stopped, as she saw the looks on the boys' face's.
"No. No, she couldn't have..." The woman spluttered helplessly as she hurried into the room, then froze in disbelief.
"This last one was too much for her." The woman sighed huskily as she reluctantly removed the baby from the departed mother's arms.
"Poor woman, she knew she had not long to live." She whispered as she gently covered Finduilas.
Then she straightened up.
"Boys, go, alert the criers of the lady's death, I must find a way to feed this unfortunate babe." She said determinedly as she shooed the boys out of the room.
There was no need to alert the criers. They all knew from the look on the Steward's face as he stormed past them. Everyone had been nervous for Finduilas, everyone in the palace had known how weak Faramir's birth had made her.
:::::::::::::::
Boromir sat, staring forlornly at Fimil as nurse rocked her back and forth in her arms. Faramir lay face down on his bed, his muffled screams quieting to occasional sobs.
"I will protect her."
The sudden speech surprised Faramir, who looked up.
"I'm her big brother, and I will make sure nothing happens to her." Boromir continued determinedly.
"I'm her big brother too!" Faramir leapt up and sat beside Boromir.
"Yes, so we'll both take care of her. Mother will be proud." Boromir finished, as he put his arm around his little brother. Fimil was their's now, and they would fulfill their last promises to their mother, or die in the attempt.
::::::::::::::::::::
Denethor had grown rather surly, and had somewhat drawn himself apart from his children. If he had slightly disliked Faramir for weakening his beloved wife, he disliked Fimil even more, and nothing could ease his pain.
::::::::::::::::::::
"Help! Help!" Squealed the damsel in distress, as Boromir the fearsome Orc playfully threatened to tear her limb from limb.
"Night of Gondor, save me!" She giggled in despair as Boromir growled threateningly.
But the Night of Gondor didn't come.
"Faramir! Where are you?" Boromir called in frustration, as he removed the paper mask he'd been wearing to liven up the game.
"Wait here damsel." He sighed as he went off in search of his absent brother.
He found him amidst a pile of books.
"Faramir! You have forsaken your lady-love!" He cried in mock horror. Faramir looked at him quizzically, than he remembered.
"Oh, that, sorry. I forgot." He sighed apologetically as he grabbed his wooden sword and rushed to the rescue. His three-year-old sister was imprisoned between a few chests and a small bookshelf, screaming hysterically as Boromir had directed her to do. By now the servants had gotten used to it, and her screams for deliverance didn't put the whole house in an uproar as they used to.
Faramir ran fast but the Orc was faster, reaching the fair lady with the cheese-cloth veil before he could, and swept her up in his arms just out of Faramir's reach.
After much struggle, Faramir finally rescued his lady, and began to piggy-back her to safety.
As Faramir was rushing with Fimil away from the terrifyingly relentless Orc, he nearly nocked over Denethor.
"Oh, sorry papa!" Faramir apologized quickly as he gathered himself and little Fimil up. A dark shadow passed over his father's face. "I told you" he said, through clenched teeth, "not to let me see that girl." He growled viciously.
He both loved and hated his daughter. Delivering her had caused his beloved wife's death, but what made it worse was the fact that the girl looked so much like her mother. When he looked at her, he saw Finduilas looking at him, not his daughter.
When he saw her from behind, her long hair blowing in the breeze, he saw his wife. Fimil's long dark hair looked just like hers had.
But the part that gave him the most pain was that she was a rather weak child. She succumbed easily to illness and had a frail, slender figure. He had spent many a sleepless night hovering around the door to her and the boys' chambers, peeping in when he was sure nobody was watching, hoping that she would make it through this bought of illness.
Sometimes he was horribly afraid that she would die, and he hated her the more for it. She would not do at all as one of his children.
With a frightened look on his face, Faramir quickly dragged his little sister to their room.
Denethor called a servant to him. "I want you to take her when she is asleep, and leave her in the wilderness. To die." He said in a low, shaking voice.
The servant looked surprised.
"Who, my lord?"
"Fimil." He said the name with a catch in his throat that made the servant uneasy.
"You can't mean that, sir?"
"Question me not." Denethor growled at him menacingly as he stalked off. The servant was horrified, but dared not defy his lord.
:::::::::::::::::
"Boromir!" Faramir whispered anxiously as he shook his brother awake.
"Hmm?"
"Fimil's not in her bed, I think she fell ill in the night and they've had to take her to the Houses of Healing!" Faramir cried urgently, as he tumbled his brother out of bed.
They searched everywhere.
Few of the servants knew anything, but when they did, they kept their mouth's shut tight.
::::::::::::::::
Esgalnoron has optimistically guaranteed me at least five rave reviews for this chapter.
That's what best friends are for, right?
Prove him wrong. Make it ten. :D
Any ideas? Drop me a PM. :)
Next chapter will be up tomorrow if I get at least one review. :)