I want to thank Chris for her great beta reading job, thank you very much, pal.
This story is dedicated to all people who are around and support me: Mirka, Tanicka, Shaytis, Jo, Chris, Inyx and of course all Faramir fans.
* * *
Prelude to Innocence
by Akin
It was a cold early morning and the air was still crisp. It would take another while till the sun would rise and warm the air.
An unwilling shudder went down his spine. He had almost forgotten how cold Gondorian early mornings could be. Despite that a warm feeling of pride spread in his chest.
He slowly sought out the faces he wanted to see; every captain who caught his gaze nodded affirmatively. Boromir was content. Despite the lack of time, they were able to pack sufficient amount of water, food and clothes and ride out for their perilous task.
His gaze went to the last, much smaller group standing a little apart where stood Faramir as well.
He directed his mare in that way. He counted the heads fast, and cursed,
"Twelve there were supposed to be, yet only eleven I see here. Who is missing?"
He caught a disapproving glance from Faramir from which he could tell that his brother still was not very comfortable with the idea of taking the orphans with them, but ignored it.
Finally someone responded, "Tiris is not here. He lives in the house of the former orphanage."
Boromir growled at the carelesness and leaned to Faramir, "Go and fetch him. Be quick, the soldiers are getting impatient. We will meet by the Gate of the Outer Ring."
* * *
Faramir strolled down the main way in the Fifth Ring. Although he had a good idea where the house he was looking for was, he was not so sure how to handle the stranger he was supposed to fetch up there.
Should he act more gently, or would a commanding tone be better? Would he not seem foolish if he were to act strictly, especially considering that the lad was older than himself? Tiris was most likely only a little younger than Boromir.
With a growing sense of discomfort Faramir came to the house he had been looking for. Before he knocked on the simple oak door, he adjusted his tunic.
His knocking was loud enough to be heard by far, but there was no answer to it.
Realising how long he had been gone already, Faramir knocked again, stronger, almost painfully.
There was no sign that someone was coming to open the door though.
His wrist was throbbing from knocking and he had no intention to try it again. He pushed against the door and to his surprise, it slid open quite silently and easily.
Faramir entered a fairly large hollow room. Although it looked dreadfully unkept, he was sure there was someone living in it, for he could hear a distant murmur coming from the chambers above and the ceiling occasionally squeaked in an unusual rhythm as someone on the other floor moved.
Without thinking about the situation that he might get himself into, Faramir climbed up the simple stone stairs to the second floor.
There was not much difference from the first chamber, only the light was much better and there was strange a odour in the air. Faramir noted a figure standing under one of windows.
It was a short lad, but his sole presence was dominating the whole chamber in a manner Faramir had noticed only once, with Denethor. He was sure at once that he was looking at someone rather out of ordinary and his own interest drew him to the strange person immediately.
The lad's hands were doing something fast in temperamental, nearly uncoordinated moves while he kept talking to himself in constant low murmur Faramir could not understand.
Even though fascinated by the strange occurrence, Faramir reminded himself of why he came in the first place and made several resolute steps closer. When the floor squeaked under his weight, the lad finally perceived that someone else was present and turned to Faramir.
Only now Faramir had a chance to throw a curious look at the lad's work, that was a centre of such concentration- it was a still wet painting.
Exploring the work intently, he greeted, "Good day to you, Tiris..."
"If you believe it as such," Tiris immediately interrupted him, then he looked languidly from the painting to Faramir, " I believed I would have enough time to finish this. Seems like I will not."
He smiled briefly and although his face was not beautiful in the right sense of the word, Faramir thought the smile to be most enchanting.
"I pray sir, give me a moment, I will find some necessary things and we can leave immediately,"
Tiris did not wait for his consent, but left Faramir standing in the middle of the room.
Faramir pushed his jaws together annoyed by the irresponsibility hidden behind Tiris' manners. Yet there was something in the older lad, nearly man, that caused his jaws to remain pressed together and he did not reproach him anything.
While Tiris searched for necessary items, Faramir stepped closer to look at the work of fine art. The scent of colours was unfamiliar to him. Tiris probably mixed them himself.
Faramir looked exploringly at the painting. Most of it was done in rich and fast brush moves, prompting the temperament of the painter. The work itself was a strange mixture of colours, which was dominated by a cold-blue spot in the middle with several grabs reaching into the most different directions. All around it were rays and spots of yellow, violet and black. It was beautiful in its own way and somehow sinister.
Looking at the different places of the canvas, Faramir realised how rich in details the painting was. Nothing seemed out of place- nearly the opposite of his first impression. He had never seen anything like it before.
There were several portraits and paintings hanging in the House and some halls, but nothing similar to this.
Faramir turned to the lad, who was packing his poor belongings on a bed in the corner, "What is it?"
Tiris looked up, glanced to the painting as if he had never seen it before and yet wondered how Faramir could not have told what it represented already at first sight,
"It is them," he replied slyly, with a strange curling of his mouth.
Faramir could tell that Tiris was teasing him, his imagination and forbearance. Yet his curiosity for the answer was more intriguing than his pride.
"Who, them?"
Tiris smirked a knowing smile and replied as if his sentence contained the answers to every question one could only think of, "Me and them."
Faramir shrugged and looked away. He knew there was much more to be told, but Tiris' manners were humiliating and made him feel small, insignificant, inexperienced and young. He did not say a word anymore and followed Tiris down the staircase.
They walked to the meeting point in the Outer Ring in silence. Faramir's passion to ask questions was temporarily repressed. He was in no mood to ask anything soon.
Who was this lad with intriguing manners and a tongue prickling like his father's?
He occasionally glanced down at the face of his silent associate- Tiris' dark brown, almost black eyes were lurking on the ground. Faramir could almost physically feel the thoughts running behind the narrow orbs and the thick air of dissatisfaction around Tiris intensified. Faramir smirked, a strange soul.
"Who is them?"
Tiris jerked as if he had been bitten by a nugatory insect, but then briefly smiled tartly, "Could you not see it?"
Faramir frowned, what was he supposed to see? "No, indeed I could not, why would I ask otherwise! "
Tiris looked at him and passion similar to despair passed in his eyes, "They are cold, those who do not understand. The only way to survive is to become colder than them. Ah, I see you know not of whom I am talking. But you should probably know the best, Faramir. You are surprised that I know your name? Well, then you should not be. More people are more conscious of your life than you may believe."
Faramir looked at Tiris sharply. Was it possible that someone might have watched his life from afar just like Tiris had suggested? The thought gave him a cold feeling of dread. He stuttered, "have you...were you?"
Tiris looked upon Faramir and his face hardened, the old sly glint returned to his eyes, "If I have watched you from afar? No, not really. Only when I felt the best, to see someone at worst."
Faramir pierced Tiris with a cutting glare, his incertitude changed into anger by Tiris' careless expression, "How dare you to say this to me?"
His own tone sounded poisonous to his ears, like never before. Yet it did not affect Tiris, who remained calm and detached, "I do not pry into others' lives, nor do I want to outrage anyone. I simply tell the things as I see them." Faramir defiantly shook his head. Even if it was true, how dared Tiris suggest that his life was miserable even in comparison to his!
Tiris smiled at him as if his anger was nothing but a child's tantrum and Faramir was relieved that he could already see Boromir's troop in the distance, for he knew not if he could vouch for his own tempter.
When they had almost reached them, Tiris looked at him briefly and stated matter-of-factly, "One can find out a lot if one is open enough to accept what one sees."
Faramir shrugged with his shoulder carelessly.
* * *
The moment they arrived, several impatient grunts arose and they immediately set out. It was not a great lag, but they had been slowed down nevertheless.
* * *
When they were finally allowed to get out of the saddles, noon was coming and although it was not his first long ride, Faramir had a feeling that if he would not get off the horse soon, he would never be able to put his legs together again.
He walked stiffly and only his behind was hurting more than his tans. It seemed that most of the knights were not sharing his problems walking stiffly nearly out of habit, not necessity.
Faramir chuckled, Men from Osgiliath cannot go straight and men from Minas Tirith cannot put their legs together.
He remembered the words of an old song he had learnt from his uncle Imrahil. The glorious past of Osgiliath as a haven was forgotten, but Minas Tirith held true to her riding tradition.
Seems like it will not take long and it would be obvious that the White city is my home.
Faramir decided the best way to give his bruised behind a little rest was to walk around. He winced, he had never realised that it could be good for anything else than sitting, but now he painfully felt every step.
"By the Vallar," he sighed, but continued the painful exercising.
As he walked between the riders from different companies he noticed that the men were neither tired, nor afraid or depressed. They talked about usual matters and it was hard to believe that these men were closer to death than any sick ones back home in the Healing Gardens. Only scarcely he heard grim themes only scarcely, if any.
He looked over to Boromir.
His brother was standing over a map with other captains deeply engaged in a lively conversation.
Faramir observed them shortly. Although their body language spoke of temperament, it also showed their loyalty to their leader. As if there was no need to be afraid at all.
Faramir turned away abruptly and almost ran into Tiris. If it was possible, the lad looked even worse than him, moving slowly and wincing.
Faramir chuckled, "Could it be possible that you are human at last?"
Tiris waved the teasing away, "Do not fall into wrong impressions," his tone was almost hostile, but Faramir was too amused by the indignant face of the lad who had made his so angry in the morning and simply ignored it.
Although his own muscles protested, he sat down beside the crushed Tiris.
"Go away! I do not need you to laugh at me while I suffer."
"Do not give me ideas, Tiris," Faramir chuckled. Tiris' hostile expression softened for a moment, but then returned to hard features again.
"Do not make yourself comfortable, we will leave soon anyway."
Faramir settled himself comfortably and smiled at Tiris who smirked. It seemed to both of them that it was going to be a long day.
* * *
* * *
Alex-you have the review of the week, or of the chapter. People, this is what I call read intently and do creative criticism. As I already told you in my email, the sentence indeed was taken from another film. And to those blisfully unaware, i forgot to mention that the "Strength and honour" sentence is not mine, but was taken from the film Galdiator. Yep, intent readers might have noticed. :)
tHe InSaNe One-Here is more, relish relish :)
Acacia-I assure you I don't mean to stop here anywhere, I am not entirely sure where this would end, but definitely not here, not yet. The time has not come yet.
I thank you everyone who encouraged me and told me one way or another that he/she likes the story, EVERY comment (criticising especially) is welcome!
If you have any questions or didn't like something, just drop me a line I will surely respond. Constructive criticism is more than welcomed.