Author's Note: Hello and welcome to chapter fourteen of "Wounded". I would like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review the last chapter, MerryKK, Nari-chan SND, Awen1923, childofGod-4ever, Sarahbarr17, and enkemeniel. Thank you all so much for your kind words! As always I do not have a beta and while I have proofread this chapter many times, I am sure I have not caught all my mistakes. Any errors that appear in canon, grammar or spelling are my fault and my fault alone. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Tolkien's masterpiece.
Chapter Fourteen Revenge
Dawn descended before Faramir woke. And when he did it was with a jolt and a gasp. Wide hedges shielded his body and he lay by a stone bench.
How embarrassing. How terribly embarrassing.
He sat up and glanced around the garden. No Elves moved about. The city was still. Perhaps no one had seen him, the Captain of Gondor, asleep in the grass.
Oh how embarrassing.
His cheeks burned when he realized that he must have dozed while sitting in thought during the late hours. After leaving Aniror, he had wandered for a long while in the gardens of Caras Galadhon, coming to rest in one glade when the moon finally fell from the sky. Aniror had not followed him and he knew it was for the best. She would not miss him. And he simply would not think of her. Yes, it was best that way.
Faramir stood, picking the grass from his hair. The sun was not yet high in the sky. Several morning birds lit upon a rose bush and began to sing. The earth had chilled his limbs and he shivered.
Poor Boromir must be mad with worry, he thought ashamedly. Or perhaps Boromir knew exactly where he was.
But it mattered not now. They would leave the city together at once and never look back. Let Aniror stay where she belonged, bereft of friendship or not. She was not his responsibility. She never was.
Faramir left the garden and hurried up the stone path back to the Lady's talan. He kept his head down and pace quick. With any luck, he would not be spotted.
Perhaps I am a weakling, he thought and doubt jabbed at him. He should never have given in to her in Ithilien. No, he should have left her there whining and crying and lamenting as he had the previous night.
Faramir shook his head. His hair splayed across his shoulders. It did not matter now. Nothing did. The journey to Lorien had secured diplomatic ties if nothing else. Upon returning to Minas Tirith they would tell their father some satisfying lie and let the memory fade. In time, he knew he would forget.
Or so he hoped.
Despite his shame, Faramir felt a certain sense of relief as he made his way through Caras Galadhon. No longer did he feel the suffocation of Aniror's treacherous hold upon him. His mind and body were free, no longer lost to her breathy voice and heady glance.
He was free.
Faramir lengthened his strides, his face upturned. A warm sun shone. Spring was turning to summer.
He was free.
A smile came to his lips and he laughed.
He was free.
Boromir was busying himself with a pair of small packs when Faramir entered the chamber. He did not look up but sighed and shut the clasp on one bag.
Faramir hesitated by the door, wondering how best to approach the situation. Something upon the table caught his eye. Wafers of honey-colored bread were wrapped in a packet of leaves. He moved closer and broke off a corner, bringing it to his lips.
The taste was strangely sweet and satisfying. He raised a brow.
"What is this?"
Boromir finally looked up, one had pressed to his knee. "The waybread of the Elves. Lembas, they call it. They provided us with enough to last during the journey back to Gondor. Though unfortunately it seems that I am fated to travel alone."
"Alone?" Faramir asked. His brother was frowning and at once he understood. "Not alone," he said. "We go together."
Boromir stood. "Are you certain?"
"Why should I not be?"
Boromir's grey eyes suddenly widened and a smile made his face easy. "You come with me? You mean to leave Lorien this day?"
"Yes." Faramir strode across the room and examined the packs. They were light, easy to carry if strap upon the saddle of a horse. "I promised you so."
"I had thought…" Boromir began to mutter but did not finish.
"No, it is over," Faramir replied. He raked his hand through his hair, pulling free the tangles. "And I think it is best left forgotten."
"As you wish." Boromir looked stunned. In silence, the brothers continued to pack until at length, Boromir spoke once more. "Are you certain?" He repeated. Hesitancy filled his voice.
Faramir raised his eyes to his brother as he laced his traveling boots. "Of course."
Boromir paced across the room. His large shoulders were slumped. "I am sorry, Faramir."
"Why?" Faramir watched him as he walked. "It is I who should find cause to apologize, after all I have done, the lies I have dared to whisper."
"The fault was not yours." Boromir waved his hand dismissively. "But I would know…I would know. Did you love her?"
Faramir stiffened. He had never expected such a question from Boromir and he was surprised to find he had a ready answer.
"Not at all," he replied. "Yet I pity her and pity softens my heart. Would you not think to pity such a creature, brother?"
Boromir paused. "No," he said. "But you are a better man than I."
Tears touched Faramir's eyes but he willed them away. "Come," he managed to answer. "We must be ready by noon."
Aniror loosed another arrow and scowled when it smashed into the target. It should be Erthor's head, she thought. Her left hand groped through a pile of arrows by her feet and she readied her bow once more. Another missile sailed across the range, another dart planted in Erthor's brow.
The archery range was empty and for that she was glad. Only guards had business in such a place and she was no longer a guard. Haldir could appear at any moment to scold her and send her away. Aniror did not think she could stand that. She might throttle him after all.
The air felt mild but Aniror's flesh burned. Erthor would wed that horrid little she-Elf, that horrid little Rodwen. She ought to kill her. Yes, she should. Then what would Erthor do? Oh he would come back to her maybe and weep tears of regret and blood. And oh she would scorn him just as he had dared to scorn her.
Let him rot and turn to clay. Let them both die.
A breeze caused the trees to shiver. She lowered her bow for an instant and watched the leaves twitch. Faramir's smile came to mind.
Perhaps she should let him rot and turn to clay as well.
But strangely, no anger came to mind as she thought of him, no seething rage and putrid disgust. In end, she felt nothing and could only imagine him as that pale, young Man with a sad smile.
Should she go to him and wish him a final farewell?
No, last night had been enough of farewell. Best leave things as they were. But still she wondered, what must he think of her now?
Two guards entered the range, their longbows slung over their shoulders. Aniror ducked her head. Valar, let them not recognize her.
Fortunately, the two seemed too preoccupied with jests and laughter to notice her where she stood. Head still bowed, Aniror shifted the pile of arrows beside her and searched for another one.
The chatter of the new arrivals was loud and between volleys, they paused to converse.
"…word from the Southeast."
"…the Anduin…"
"…seen last eve and this morn…"
"…up from Rohan perhaps. Orcs…"
Aniror half-listened. She wished for the days when their talk might mean something to her and she would race from the city to seek out fresh reports. But no more.
She would be bound to a life of boredom. In her mind she envisioned herself languishing away in a talan similar to Faeleth's, needle and thread in hand. Gone were the days of glory. Gone were the days of hope.
What happiness could she expect?
Aniror loosed an arrow. It struck the bottom half of the target, far from her mark. She sighed. Already, her skills weakened.
The two guards soon left the range, their chatter coursing back in warm streams. Another Elf entered, her hair tied behind her ears and an annoying smile upon her face. She paused to gaze around.
Aniror ignored her. The Elf seemed unsure of where she stood and her head swiveled about in every direction. With any luck she would…
"Oh good morn!" The gleeful cry ripped through Aniror like a newly sharpened blade. She looked up and was horrified to see the Elf striding closer. Why did she look familiar?
"May I ask a question of you?"
"What sort?" Aniror leaned upon her bow, eyeing the maid with suspicion. "And who are you?"
Her tone must have been harsh, for the maid's smile faded a bit and she stepped back.
"Rodwen. I came with my company from Imladris," she replied.
Aniror's hands curled about her bow. Her fingers tingled. One arrow, one shot. Oh Valar it would only take one shot.
"Are you a guard?" Rodwen asked. She seemed undaunted.
"Yes." Aniror fought to control the rage in her voice. Rodwen did not notice.
"Then I have a question I must ask of you," she said. "I am to lead a party of scouts along the Southeastern border of the Wood. Have there been any reports of Orcs?"
"No." Aniror could not stop herself now. She was dizzy with anger and intoxicated with the mere thought of revenge. Vengeance was a heady elixir, she thought. One that no earthly substance could bring about or abate.
"There has been no report," she continued. "The borders are clear and calm. Go, if you will. The way is open."
Rodwen looked relieved and Aniror relished in the new smile that formed upon her lips. Hopefully, it would be her last.
"My deepest thanks," she said. Turning, she left the glade.
Aniror did not watch her go. Instead, she reached for another arrow and loosed it upon the target. It landed in the center.
"How long shall this take?" Boromir was pacing and his sword swung from his hip. Faramir sat on the grass with his cloak thrown about his shoulders.
"Not much longer, my lords." Haldir was apologetic. "I am sorry for this delay but we have had word of Orcs about the borders. It would be foul to let you cross into such danger."
Boromir paused and stared at the Elf. Faramir saw how his patience had dissolved. His brother was eager to be on their way.
He, however, was content to sit upon the grass a mile from the border and wait. A long journey lay before them and he would take what rest he could.
Boromir resumed his pacing. Haldir shifted his weight and conversed with several of his Elf companions. Faramir watched the clouds turn in the bright sky.
Aniror had not come to bid him farewell and for that he would be forever grateful.
Haldir suddenly turned from his companions, strolling closer to Faramir. Concern made his darkened his eyes and Faramir offered him a small smile.
"Are you well, my lord?" he asked softly. Boromir was too distracted with his pacing to hear.
"Yes," Faramir replied.
Haldir paused and glanced about uncomfortably. Assuring himself that no one listened, he looked back at Faramir. "Is there any message you would wish me to give? Any farewell?"
Faramir shook his head. "All necessary words have passed between us and they were even few. No doubt or fear lingers in my mind."
"And for that I am most glad," Haldir said. He patted Faramir upon the shoulder and returned to his companions.
The air was still and in the distance, a high cry could be heard. The Elves at once tilted their heads to the side to listen. Boromir stopped pacing and Faramir stood.
"Yrch! Yrch!"
Something moved through the trees.
"Yrch! Yrch!"
Faramir grasped the hilt of his sword.
"Yrch!"
An Elf parted the thin branches before them and rushed into the glade. His face was marred with fear.
"By the borders!" he cried. "Yrch! A company of Elves is trapped."
"Alas!" Haldir shouted. "We must make haste!" His companions took their longbows from their shoulders.
Boromir glanced at Faramir and the brothers agreed at once.
"We go with you," Boromir said.
Haldir paused, but only for an instant.
"Hurry then!" he ordered and dashed through the trees.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Please take the time to leave a review and share your thoughts with me. All feedback is greatly appreciated. The last chapter, chapter fifteen, will be up on Thursday and then it is off to the sequel The Price of Pity. Thanks again!