Rating: G
Summary: A one-shot dealing with the scene in The Two Towers
where Sam, Frodo and Faramir go their separate ways.
Feedback: Constructive criticism is welcome. I attempt to keep as close
to book canon as possible. Ideas on how to improve in this area are
particularly welcome.
Disclaimer: The places, situations and characters of The Lord of the
Rings belong to the Tolkien Estate. This work contains no original
characters. No money is being made from this work.
Author's Note: I am more indebted to Tolkien than usual. Selections from this story are directly
taken from The Two Towers. These
will be indicated by italics. An * indicates
sections that are phrases from Tolkien (both TTT and RoTK) placed in a
different context.
"The Parting"
They stood under the boughs of the woods again. No noise of the falls could
be heard, for a long southward slope lay now between them and the ravine in
which the stream flowed. To the west they could see light through the trees, as
if the world came there to a sudden end, at a brink looking out only on to sky.
Sam narrowed his eyes and looked directly at the light beyond the forest. A
change was come over him; the desire to linger was not strong. The times were
not few, after setting out from Imladris, when the desire to tarry had seized
Sam. Not to turn back, for there was no chance of Frodo turning back, and in
the end, he was where Frodo was, but to merely stay. Of course, the desire to move forward again always returned to
Samwise, and although he had these moments of hesitation, he never let Frodo
know about them, and would often, in fact, urge Frodo onward. They had been lucky that the desire to
linger had never taken both of them at the same time.
The option of lingering, remaining hidden from the dangers of Middle-Earth
under the auspices of needing food or rest or protection for extraordinary
dangers, was hard to turn down. Yet it
was an option Samwise had turned down again and again. He knew as well as Frodo that the Ring had
to be destroyed; he understood that battle would rage, victory of good forces
would be nearly worthless, and a shadow would be ever present unless Frodo
fufilled his charge.
Yet, the simple fact remainded that fufilling his charge was
likely to put Mr. Frodo in a more than considerable amount of danger, which was
exactly what Sam felt duty-bound to prevent.
The times when Sam wanted to linger were the times when he was
overwhelmed, the times when he felt the only way to keep Mr. Frodo safe was to
stay in a sanctuary, for the rest of time, if necessary. As he reasoned, he
could convince him to stay a day, and then two days, and then a third to
recover from their hunger, and so on, for as long as was necessary.
Working out the best ways to keep Frodo shielded from the evil that Arda had to
offer occupied most of Sam's time in thought. The pleasant atmosphere in
Henneth Annun had allowed him to think calmly and deeply on these affairs.
Without knowing it, he had allowed one of the two instructions that had been
waging war without ceasing in his mind since Elrond's fair dwelling to emerge
victorious. Perhaps it was seeing evil taint the tranquility of Ithilien, but
at long last, Sam fully and finally conceded to himself that he had to keep Mr.
Frodo safe, but not at the cost of impeding his progress toward the most
dangerous place in Middle-Earth. He
pushed the desire to linger away forever.
Never would he be seduced by it again, even for a passing moment.
'Here is the last parting of our ways,' said Faramir. 'If you take my
counsel, you will not turn eastward yet.
Frodo, son of Drogo, if you truly would take my counsel, you would remove from
the path to Cirith Ungol, and you would share more deeply the suspicion of
Samwise, son of Hamfast, of your questionable guide,' thought Denethor's
youngest son.
Faramir did not believe that these hobbits had come to him by mere chance, but
he had lain awake many nights pondering how deeply he was meant to intervene
with them. He had provided them proper meals and peaceful rest, but was that to
be the extent of it?
The path that their guide was going to lead them down had darkness at its end.
Not doom, not that Faramir could sense, at any rate, but a cold, choking
darkness from which Faramir could not forsee escape. Perhaps that was merely
Mordor itself that he felt, but he did not think this to be the case. Again, he
put himself to the question: had these hobbits come to him so that he could
relieve them of the burden of the Gollum-creature and place them on a safer and
more prudent path to Mount Doom?
He again arrived at the same answer: as far as matters of Isildur's Bane were
concerned, undue intercession was not wise. What little Frodo knew of the Ring's
previous bearers, he had woven together. It was evident to Faramir that the
Ring somehow tried to manipulate not only its bearers, but those around its
bearers. Knowing the Ring to be a work of Sauron, Faramir reasoned that these
manipulations were toward an evil end. Therefore, the best service he could do
Frodo and Sam, who seemed resistant, in a way, to the thing, would be to let
them follow the couse of action they agreed upon between themselves. He could
not be positive that any intervention on his part would not be affected, even
in the slightest, by Isildur's Bane. Theirs was a path beyond his control and
sight.
During his thought, his eyes had been drawn toward the light. He was still,
almost carven, and the breeze did not seem to touch his face with proud bones
and ivory skin, nor disturb his dark hair. He was kingly, beautiful, powerful,
and seemed older than his years.*
Frodo gazed upon him and was reminded much more of Aragorn than Boromir.* He
felt kindred with Faramir, and despaired that he would likely never have the
chance to speak with him again. Frodo suspected he would have been able to
learn much from this man. When Faramir once again made eye contact with the two
of them, Frodo gave him a warm smile.
Samwise did not imitate Frodo in this regard. His look was surprisingly
penetrating.
'You have seen my internal debate, Samwise, and you know,
somehow, that the idea of forcibly altering your path crossed my mind, however
fleetingly, thought Faramir. 'I was
foolish to denigrate your wit, for you see deeply in your way as well.'
Resolved, Faramir continued. 'Go straight on, for thus you will have the
cover of the woodland for many miles. On your west is an edge where the land
falls into the great vales, sometimes suddenly and sheer, sometimes in long
hillsides. Keep near to this edge and the skirts of the forest. In the
beginning of your journey you may walk under daylight, I think. The land dreams
in a false peace, and for a while all evil is withdrawn. Fare you well, while
you may!'
Thus did Faramir let them go, and there was goodwill all around at their
parting.