Chapter 11 ! Enjoy !
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To his great surprise, before he could say anything more, the Elf raised his hand and quickly told the man :
"No, don't. Wait until we stop, so that you will tell everyone at the same time."
Faramir nodded and lowered his eyes, trying to think of how he could begin and wondering if telling everyone would be a better idea… If there had been only him, he wouldn't have told anyone…
At least, with Legolas, he would have had to face only one reaction, and the Prince lived in an already corrupted world. Maybe he would understand.
But telling everyone… he might have to face eight different reactions, and to deal with all of them…
Most of all, he was afraid of his brother. How would he be like when learning that Faramir hadn't been telling the truth ?
He did not know, truly, for Boromir had become so much different from the man he used to know. Despite all the care he was showing to him, Faramir felt him growing more distant, more serious. But the younger man knew himself to become more distant too. He was now hiding things to Boromir, a thing that he couldn't have done in the past. They still loved each other, deeply. But not in the same way as they used to.
Merry was joking and laughing loudly, but his two companions were not. They were answering to his questions, smiling at his antics and sometimes (but only sometimes), he managed to get a small chuckle out of them. That was it.
Concerning Boromir, This wasn't much different from the other times, except that his mind seemed completely elsewhere. He kept staring intently at the back of his younger brother, for his boat was right in front of them, and his brow was furrowed, as if he were trying to see right into the man's body.
The young Hobbit could understand. Faramir had suffered much these past weeks and he was surely acting most strangely, as if carrying a heavy secret. What was surprising was the look of suspicion and irritation he could see on Boromir's face.
As for Pippin, his behaviour was most unusual. Normally, he would have been the one making most of the jokes and pranks, but this time, he was not. He remained sat at the boat's front, a sad look on his face. He was letting his gaze wander from Strider, to Gimli, to Gandalf, to Frodo, to Sam, to Legolas, to Faramir, at the sight of whom he couldn't suppress a small sigh. Merry certainly knew the man and he were like a mentor and his protégé, just as he felt with Boromir. Or at least they used to, for Faramir hadn't been seen much in Lothlórien, and so, Pippin and he hadn't been much discussing together since Moria.
Of course they had stayed at the man's side while his head slowly healed, but he was asleep most of the time.
The young Hobbit had seen the tears in his cousin's eyes and had done everything he could to heal them, but this was not something he was used to do. Pippin did not cry before. Never. Everything was different now. Frodo had changed much too. They didn't spoke much anymore, and he always looked tired, pained, worried, guilty, absolutely not Hobbit-like. Hopefully, he had relaxed himself a little in Lothlórien. Just a little, but enough to have some less serious discussions with the three other Hobbits. Oh, Merry definitely missed the Shire. Why had they insisted on coming ?
Frodo winced and let out a small gasp at the sudden wave of pain that went through his chest, which owed him a very concerned look from both Sam and Gandalf. But he quickly dismissed it with a shake of his head, although he knew quite well what that meant. Danger was close. Sauron was close.
Gimli was slightly startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to meet Aragorn, eyes fixed on the horizon.
"The gates of Argonath," he told loud enough for everyone to hear him.
The dwarf turned his head back to where the man was looking and saw them. Two statues. Taller than the ones he had ever seen. They were holding a hand before them and held a sword in the other. Gimli's mouth fell open at the sight. Surely men could be good builders at times.
"Isildur and Elendil." he heard the voice of Boromir from behind him, apparently answering a question from the Hobbits. "You hear that, Faramir ?" he then told his brother, making him turn around, "We are home."
The two smiled at each other before focusing back on the two statues. A look of immense pride appeared on Boromir's face as they passed the gates and entered a small lake.
"We shall stop here for today," Gandalf told the Fellowship, pointing at the shore, "And then, I am afraid we will have to walk, except if you feel ready to bring the boat into the waterfall."
The Hobbits answered with a loud sigh, which made Gimli chuckle.
The company quickly settled a camp to eat and immediately after, Legolas went to find Estel and Mithrandir, alert.
"We should not stay too long on this side of the river. I have a bad feeling about this place. I hear the trees screaming." he told them worriedly.
Estel put a hand on his right shoulder but it was Mithrandir who spoke :
"I know that, penneth, but the other shore is overrun by Orcs. This is the less dangerous place to stay."
The Elf bowed, not feeling completely reassured. But he trusted Mithrandir.
"Now, Faramir ?" the Wizard called the young man sitting on a stone, taking care of his sword, "I think you wanted to tell us something, didn't you ?"
The young man swallowed but nodded before sheathing back his sword and getting up. Every Fellow could easily see the sweat that dropped from his brow as he began.
Eventually, when he was finished, the man allowed himself to lift his eyes up to meet his companions' gaze. He was shaking, he had had trouble to tell them everything and his eyes were filled with tears. Tears of shame, of regret, and fear.
There was a long moment where none of them spoke and they simply stared at the man before them. But while Faramir had expected them to get angry, ashamed at him, disgusted, their looks only held an immense compassion and kindness, but maybe also a little fear. But they didn't seem to be afraid of him, they were afraid for him. It was Boromir who, unsurprisingly, spoke first, walking to his brother and taking him in his arms, holding him tightly :
"Why didn't you tell me ?"
Faramir could do nothing else but shake his head in a way of telling he did not know.
Soon, everyone was around them, comforting the younger man.
"Have you ever been to Eryn Lasgalen, Lord Faramir ?" Legolas asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"N-No." the man answered, "But I have heard about it."
"Then you should know that even the purest place or person cannot always resist Him."
Faramir nodded and thanked him, but suddenly, the Elf's eyes shot wide open.
"Yrch !" he shouted, pushing the two brothers away. They all watched in horror as an arrow buried itself in the sand right where the two men were standing a few seconds ago, followed by an abominable shout.
Faster than anyone could register, Legolas grabbed his bow and shot back, wincing intensely at the pain it caused. They then heard the loud thud of the lifeless body hitting the ground.
"A sentinel." Legolas stated again, "They know we are here."
"We have to cross the river !" Gimli exclaimed.
"No !" Aragorn shouted back, "They would follow us ! It would simply delay the fight !" he explained, unsheathing his sword and preparing for the battle to come.
"Aragorn is right, Gimli." Gandalf told the unconvinced dwarf too, grabbing Glamdring.
Everyone made himself ready, even the Hobbits grabbed their small daggers and hid behind the taller ones.
"How many are they, Legolas ?" Aragorn asked the alert Elf.
"Too many, heavily armed, coming from every direction." the woodelf answered flatly, while drawing his bow. Even he couldn't suppress a small moan of pain at the movement.
"Natho, Legolas." [Careful] Aragorn worriedly told him, forcing him to lower his arm. The man then frantically ran his fingers in his hair. The Orcs were getting even closer, they could easily be heard now. And they were, effectively, numerous, too numerous. A decision had to be taken. But it was hard… And maybe they wouldn't agree…
"Gandalf, take the Hobbits and the injured to the other shore, we will try to stop them, or at least delay them, but you cannot stay here. We cannot risk your lives." he finally told.
Immediately after, loud shouts of protestation came from Legolas and Faramir :
"No !"
"You won't be able to stand against them !"
"I am not leaving you here !"
Aragorn's face clearly meant 'Who said that we intended to win the battle ?' which owed him both angered and desperate looks from the two.
'No, no… You cannot take that decision for me…' Faramir thought desperately. 'I won't let my brother to sacrifice himself ! I am supposed to protect him !' he wanted to scream, but the words couldn't get out of his mouth, he was frozen, frozen in fear, he didn't even know why.
Only Gandalf and the Hobbits had remained completely silent. The Hobbits suddenly felt really small. This was a decision that should be taken for them, for they were, at the same time, most reluctant at the idea of leaving their companions and not looking forward to another fight. Gandalf, he, agreed with Aragorn's idea, Frodo needed to be brought to safety, and the other Hobbits weren't ready yet to fight, but he also knew that it would be a sacrifice...
Eventually, the Wizard spoke :
"I am afraid you are both right and wrong. But we do not have much time. It is true that the Ringbearer needs to be brought to safety, but the three of you will never be able to stand against them…"
"That is why I am staying !" Legolas cut off abruptly.
"But, mellon-nîn, you are injured…" Aragorn tried.
"I was injured, Estel, and I am not leaving you to a certain death. You will need my help if you want to stand a chance. And besides, there a dwarf here to whom I owe a life debt."
"You… You don't owe anything, you saved me first !" Gimli told, confused.
Seeing the fierce look in the Prince's eyes, both Aragorn and Gandalf knew there was no point in arguing. No point and no time to waste. The Elves were simply too stubborn. And his arguments made sense, although Aragorn still doubted they would be able to truly win the fight...
"Promise me you won't do anything stupid." he finally spoke. Legolas nodded.
"Very well, then," the Wizard finally agreed in defeat, "Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Faramir shall come with me."
"No !" the man eventually shouted before he could even realize he was. No, he couldn't leave. Not now. This was the place. He recognized it, now. He had seen what was supposed to happen there… This had suddenly gotten him out of his frozen state. He couldn't just abandon his brother to a certain death. Even with Legolas' help, he wouldn't make it. He had to stay. He knew it. No one could get him away.
"No, I can't." he added, lowering his head.
The Wizard, recognizing the look in the man's eyes, hastily walked to him while Boromir grabbed his brother's forearm tightly :
"Do not be a fool, brother. I don't want you to take any more risks…" Boromir told worriedly.
"You will need help, Faramir, I cannot leave you." Gandalf explained, clearly referencing to Sauron. Faramir understood him, but his brother was the dearest person he had. He couldn't knowingly let him… die…
"I-I saw something…" he told them mysteriously, not revealing this was where Boromir might die, which he did not need to, apparently, according to the Wizard's look, "I cannot leave, Mithrandir. I know it."
"Do not let your emotions cloud your judgement, young man, you need help." Gandalf tried to reason with him.
Faramir was completely desperate.
"No, no. This is why I came, I cannot leave."
Silence followed.
"And I am not alone." he added, in a last attempt to make the Wizard break and sensing he was very reluctant.
For some seconds then, the Wizard looked at him, trying to see in his mind. But eventually, the desperate plea in Faramir's eyes made him break. If he went with him, the simple fact that his brother was left behind could have made his mind even more vulnerable.
'Look after him, my Lord and Ladies.'
"So be it. I shall take the Hobbits with me."
And as he said those words, he was forced to see the broken look on Merry and Pippin's faces, staring at the two brothers, but they didn't say anything. They had no time. No time for goodbyes. They were convinced they were not to see each others again, convinced that they were sacrificing themselves.
"We will catch you back," Boromir told them hopefully, but that did not work. A part of him was still reluctant to let Frodo go. He had the Ring with him… He wouldn't be able to bring it to his Father… But his thought was quickly dismissed. The Ring had taken control of him too easily and the consequences could have been disastrous. If he couldn't resist It, how did his Father could ?
And so they parted, without farewells spoken. But none were needed. You just had to look into their eyes.
Less than a minute later, the Orcs were on them, trying to push them back to the river. They were too many, way too many, coming from everywhere. Legolas' face was filled with pain and Faramir's head was pounding from the terrible screams the foul creatures were letting out. They had both been able to bring down a lot of Orcs with their arrows, but to what cost ? The two were already looking exhausted, but Aragorn had to admit they wouldn't have been able to stand that long, but even now, their hope of surviving this was growing thinner and thinner. Gimli was letting out terrible dwarven shouts each time his axe cut through the air to separate an orcish head from the rest of his body. He was fighting like an enraged beast, his head and body covered in red and dark blood. He had several cuts on his head, chest and arms.
Aragorn was trying his best to stay close to Legolas' side, glancing worriedly to him each time he heard his pained moans and gasps. The Elf already bore a nasty cut on his right arm, but the man had no way to help him with it. His usually dance-like way of fighting where he played with his enemies had long disappeared, and he was now trying his best to dodge the blows of the four Orcs. Almost luckily, he managed to cut through the jugular of two of them, but one of the remaining two managed hit his wrist, sending his knife to fly away. Seeing it, Aragorn tried his best to both parry the deadly blows and grab his dagger. He was doing pretty well until the nasty Orc, seeing an opening, feinted a blow to his head before finally hitting his left leg. Aragorn let out a small cry as his knee buckled, feeling as if his leg was on fire. His head was spinning and his vision blurred for some seconds, but he managed to stay upright and kept defending himself. Eventually, his sword pierced the orcish chest, splattering him with dark blood, and he was finally able to get his dagger out of his sheath, wincing.
"Legolas !" he called, throwing his dagger at the overrun Elf, who easily caught it. But at the same time, one of the Orcs sent his sword forward. Legolas avoided the deadly blow, but the dirty blade still cut very deeply through his tunic on his side, staining it with clear blood. The Prince let out an involuntary shout and shook his head as black dots began to fill his vision from both fatigue and the numerous open wounds on his body. Valar knows how, he still managed to get the Orcs head off their bodies. Aragorn turned around again when he heard the two heavy thuds of the dead bodies falling behind him, but also the much lighter one of an Elf falling on his knees.
At first, the two brothers were fighting side by side, back against back, but they were soon forced to separate themselves. Boromir was paring and reposting with an incredible precision, sweat and fresh blood dropping from his head, due to a scimitar he had barely managed to dodge in time. Hopefully, his brother had been there to have his back by the time he got up again. But he wasn't anymore. He was fighting a group of Orcs at least three meters ahead of him. Well… Fighting was a great word. The most appropriate on would have been 'avoiding to get slaughtered', but this was the best he could do. His mind had trouble thinking straight, and he kept glancing back to his brother, looking for an archer not faraway from him, which had nearly cost him his sword and caused him to receive a cut near his collarbone.
Suddenly, he saw it. Standing away from the fight, close to the river bank, preparing itself to draw his bow. An Uruk-Hai, a very tall one, strong one. It was the One.
Every other thought left the young man's mind. Without thinking, he ran to it, not paying attention to the Orcs behind him, to the blows he received.
'No… No…'
Faster, he had to be faster, but his path was blocked by Orcs. He ran into them, ignoring the pain that crossed his body, or the blood staining his clothes, and ran, ran.
The Uruk was aiming at Boromir, ready to let the arrow fly to his meet the man's chest. His fingers opened…
But at that very moment, Faramir's chest collided with its shoulder and they both fell into the water.
Alas, the arrow had been released, but the young man couldn't seen nor hear where it had landed, for the creature held his head under the water, while grabbing his scimitar and aiming at his throat. Faramir was gasping for air, desperately trying to get to the surface, desperately looking for a clue that what he had done had worked, that his brother was still alive.
He couldn't, he didn't have enough strength.
The creature lifted his arm, ready to strike.
But, without a warning, he felt a burning darkness piercing through his head.
'Glob !' [Fool] a dark voice yelled.
Everything in his mind became only pain, fire, torment, rage, death and he was aware of nothing more.
I know, this was very long, but I was very bored and I just couldn't find a way to make this shorter.Sorry for the little cliffie in the end...Take care of yourselves, and, to everyone who is confined, stay home !