Note:
If you review, please review the STORY. Don't just read this to say how we butchered your favorite character, or we broke the laws of The Canon Police. Read the STORY please, or don't review Reviewing us or our slightly off factoids is called flaming, and if you wish to do this I suggest you read the note posted by JediKnightBalthasar concerning flamers (http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1102316&chapter=4) Also, how exactly well do you think you could stand bearing a mark of shame for thirteen years, hm? And what sort of drunk are YOU?
Agh!! Estel, how could you do this to me?? Now I have to write a chapter that won't look too bad by comparison to yours - impossible!! Readers (and hopefully reviewers) um, well, so far, I wrote the first chapter, and Estel wrote the second. Now it's my urn to write the third, and I'll try my best, but it probably won't be as good as Estel's. (The angst I usually write is Smeagol angst....)
Very important note to all: Who knows about Menel's parents? This is what we decided: Eowyn lied to Aragorn and told him the child was a stillborn (born dead for any of you more ignorant than I), but Eowyn felt guilty and told Faramir, and word leaked out to the citizens of Gondor, but it was all hush-hush (to put it in Balthasar's terms). Bit Aragorn is still blissfully unaware his son's friend is his daughter. Happy, ain't it?
I'm sorry I'm not responding to reviews, but there were so many!! Thanks everyone for reviewing though!!
Oh what dreams of pain I was tortured with! My heart felt as though it was bleeding, and I though there could be nothing better than to die, and free my "father" of his shame. But so selfish was I, I did not want yet to die. I did not feel as though my time had come.
When I had picked the courage to do so, I left the protection of my bush, my skin scratched by the thorns and brambles that were still entangled in my hair. The sun was begin to peak over the horizon, and several children were coming out to play. I closed my mind the to the rest of the world, and went into my own room, and locked the door.
If course, a lock wouldn't do much against the one who has the key, now would it? I was afraid my father would still be angry, and would do something rash. My fear was realized.
A heavy knocking came at my door. "Menel, let me in." It was father. And by the tone of his voice, he was, again, drunk. I shivered, and my mind curled at the thought of what he might do in this state.
"Father, I'm getting dressed." I lied.
"Let me come in!" he said, raising his voice.
I didn't answer, but I began to brace the door with several heavy objects, silently cursing that my room was so far from anyone else's-no one would hear me shriek, and if they did, it might be too late.
Then, Faramir began jamming himself in attempt to open the door. "Bastard- child!" he shrieked, "Let me in, or I'll rip apart your door with my very hands!"
I thought about climbing out the window, but it was much too high, and these dizzying heights scared me, especially when the sun was just rising, and everything was still dark.
The door crashed open.
"Father" had a mad look in his eyes, and a smile that sent shivers by my back. It was too late when I realized he has carrying a knife in his hand.
"Father!" I shrieked, "You don't know what you're doing!"
"Something I should have done long ago." (A/N Sorry for that old cliché line, but it fit in) he replied, slowly advancing, brandishing the knife.
In a sudden burst of desperation, I flung myself at him, and hugged him, hoping to sooth him back to the correct frame of mind. Hot tears burnt my cheeks, and he looked down in surprise, but he dropped the knife.
"Father! What makes you hate me so? I love you so much!" I said, hugging him, bringing him to his senses.
He hugged me back, and sat on my bed. "Nothing-nothing. I love you, you know that." But even as he spoke these lying words, I could feel a faint shudder as he touched me. His eyes held sorrow, but not sorrow for me. I knew to Faramir I was not a person. I was no more than a token.
A token of shame that could be tossed away without a second thought.
And, it hurt, as I was ready to be off, away from my home, when my father hugged me, and he didn't shudder, but there was a relaxation....relief. Relief I was out of his life. My heart had been shredded.
Mother hugged me, and I mounted my horse, following Eldarion, who was escorting me to my new home. So depressed was I, I had forgotten of the name of the place I was going...but Eldarion had been there before.
In the distance, I watched my home grow smaller and smaller. It's white turrets blending into the sky behind it, and the happy flags disappearing. And I wondered if I would ever see home again...
I'm sorry that chapter was so short!! But was it good? Even a little?
If you review, please review the STORY. Don't just read this to say how we butchered your favorite character, or we broke the laws of The Canon Police. Read the STORY please, or don't review Reviewing us or our slightly off factoids is called flaming, and if you wish to do this I suggest you read the note posted by JediKnightBalthasar concerning flamers (http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1102316&chapter=4) Also, how exactly well do you think you could stand bearing a mark of shame for thirteen years, hm? And what sort of drunk are YOU?
Agh!! Estel, how could you do this to me?? Now I have to write a chapter that won't look too bad by comparison to yours - impossible!! Readers (and hopefully reviewers) um, well, so far, I wrote the first chapter, and Estel wrote the second. Now it's my urn to write the third, and I'll try my best, but it probably won't be as good as Estel's. (The angst I usually write is Smeagol angst....)
Very important note to all: Who knows about Menel's parents? This is what we decided: Eowyn lied to Aragorn and told him the child was a stillborn (born dead for any of you more ignorant than I), but Eowyn felt guilty and told Faramir, and word leaked out to the citizens of Gondor, but it was all hush-hush (to put it in Balthasar's terms). Bit Aragorn is still blissfully unaware his son's friend is his daughter. Happy, ain't it?
I'm sorry I'm not responding to reviews, but there were so many!! Thanks everyone for reviewing though!!
Oh what dreams of pain I was tortured with! My heart felt as though it was bleeding, and I though there could be nothing better than to die, and free my "father" of his shame. But so selfish was I, I did not want yet to die. I did not feel as though my time had come.
When I had picked the courage to do so, I left the protection of my bush, my skin scratched by the thorns and brambles that were still entangled in my hair. The sun was begin to peak over the horizon, and several children were coming out to play. I closed my mind the to the rest of the world, and went into my own room, and locked the door.
If course, a lock wouldn't do much against the one who has the key, now would it? I was afraid my father would still be angry, and would do something rash. My fear was realized.
A heavy knocking came at my door. "Menel, let me in." It was father. And by the tone of his voice, he was, again, drunk. I shivered, and my mind curled at the thought of what he might do in this state.
"Father, I'm getting dressed." I lied.
"Let me come in!" he said, raising his voice.
I didn't answer, but I began to brace the door with several heavy objects, silently cursing that my room was so far from anyone else's-no one would hear me shriek, and if they did, it might be too late.
Then, Faramir began jamming himself in attempt to open the door. "Bastard- child!" he shrieked, "Let me in, or I'll rip apart your door with my very hands!"
I thought about climbing out the window, but it was much too high, and these dizzying heights scared me, especially when the sun was just rising, and everything was still dark.
The door crashed open.
"Father" had a mad look in his eyes, and a smile that sent shivers by my back. It was too late when I realized he has carrying a knife in his hand.
"Father!" I shrieked, "You don't know what you're doing!"
"Something I should have done long ago." (A/N Sorry for that old cliché line, but it fit in) he replied, slowly advancing, brandishing the knife.
In a sudden burst of desperation, I flung myself at him, and hugged him, hoping to sooth him back to the correct frame of mind. Hot tears burnt my cheeks, and he looked down in surprise, but he dropped the knife.
"Father! What makes you hate me so? I love you so much!" I said, hugging him, bringing him to his senses.
He hugged me back, and sat on my bed. "Nothing-nothing. I love you, you know that." But even as he spoke these lying words, I could feel a faint shudder as he touched me. His eyes held sorrow, but not sorrow for me. I knew to Faramir I was not a person. I was no more than a token.
A token of shame that could be tossed away without a second thought.
And, it hurt, as I was ready to be off, away from my home, when my father hugged me, and he didn't shudder, but there was a relaxation....relief. Relief I was out of his life. My heart had been shredded.
Mother hugged me, and I mounted my horse, following Eldarion, who was escorting me to my new home. So depressed was I, I had forgotten of the name of the place I was going...but Eldarion had been there before.
In the distance, I watched my home grow smaller and smaller. It's white turrets blending into the sky behind it, and the happy flags disappearing. And I wondered if I would ever see home again...
I'm sorry that chapter was so short!! But was it good? Even a little?