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Prelude to Innocence
by Akin
Although they had been riding side by side almost the whole way, only a few words had passed between them. And though Faramir understood, he had found it unnerving.
One look at his brother's brow wrinkled with worries was enough to explain everything. Yet his silent understanding did not mean that he did not want to share Boromir's burden, especially when he was sent on this mission with Boromir to learn something from him. It was frustrating.
The night was coming and they were close to the ruins of Reenatirion. It was a shame that they would ride too far from it to see the damage done. Faramir's lively imagination could picture it anyway.
One day or two at the most and they would have almost reached Harnen, the last border to the uncertain land of the Haradrim.
When they stopped the knights immediately started to settle down for the night.
They needed not worry, they were still too far to be attacked. And in the field every moment of sleep was precious. Or so Boromir had said.
Only when his feet were finally on the solid ground Faramir realised how tired he was. If he had been to sit on the horse for a moment longer, he would have jounced out every bit of life in him.
He cast a fast look to Boromir, who was talking to one of the captains again- an occurrence which was becoming a habit. And he was once again excluded from this. This was becoming a habit as well.
Faramir sighed and tapped his horse's mane. He was sweaty and although he was not shivering from cold Faramir thought it best to dry him a little.
He found a rag in his backpack and with long careful moves he started. The sun was moving down and the sweat was glinting dimly.
"It is a good idea. It is hot now, but the night will be cold."
"Boromir, I did not see you coming."
He indeed had not noticed when his brother had come and a sudden wave of unexpected wilfulness flared up within him. Only now, facing his brother, Faramir realised how much it hurt him that he was excluded from everything. He was supposed to learn and instead of that he was treated like a child which needs to be protected!
Boromir stepped to them and half gently stroked the stallion's big head. It was a gesture that reminded Faramir of a loving mother of a too lively child. Not so gentle, but still loving and pleasant. The stallion moved his head and grunted satisfied.
"Faramir, do not act so childishly."
"Childishly? You think I am acting childishly? Then I ask myself why I am here! I thought we were supposed to share the decisions."
Boromir chuckled in disbelief, his voice going several degrees higher, "Share? You expect me to put many soldier's lives in danger only because of your hurt pride? You have no experience at all and one wrong step could lead to a disaster!"
"Exactly! I do not have any experience, but how do you think I should gain it when I am not even able to watch. You exclude me from everything!"
Faramir was now close to yelling, absolutely not caring who of the very wise and very experienced captains could hear them arguing.
Boromir sighed, "If you see it that way. I think you should think about it a little more before you start to yell like this."
Faramir grunted angrily and turned away.
"Get prepared. We will leave soon tomorrow and you are weary," Boromir turned away as if to go away, but then added over his shoulder, "Do not forget the first rule, Faramir!"
Faramir wanted to reply, but then he bit his tongue.
He looked at the first man who was standing close. It was Tiris with a sly smile.
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A warm wind was crossing the empty plains of meagre grass tufts covered in dust as far as the eye could see. The moonlit relief reminded Faramir of Osgiliath's coasts.
He had seen them a long time ago, but the memory remained very strong.
He had been with Boromir on a visit to their uncle Imrahil.
At first the idea had been met by Denethor's fierce disapproval, but mother had somehow managed to convince him and they had been allowed to go.
The plains looked like the sea- the dust was glinting in the pale moonlight and the small islands of grass appeared like waves wandering beyond the horizon.
Faramir remembered the night vividly. It had been the same night when their uncle had come to tell them that their mother would not welcome them when they returned.
Boromir had hugged him tightly back then and only then he had realised that nothing would be the same again.
He had never cried over her departure, neither had Boromir.
They had never shared their grief, but Faramir was sure that his brother must have felt it equally ferocious.
And in between their own torment they had gained something that could not be expressed by words.
He was sure that even after their argument, they would come together again. Not even the most harmonious families lived without a fight. And their family certainly did not belong to the most harmonious ones. Therefore both brothers stuck to each other more strongly.
Sometimes, in times without Boromir at his side, the world felt cold and harsh, like a hilt of a sword. Faramir rubbed the hilt absentmindedly.
He still was not accustomed to its additional weight at his side, but he realised that after long days when Boromir had patiently taught him how to wield it, he looked at the sword through different eyes.
Faramir unsheathed it and gazed at its long shaft. It did not feel as alien to him as it had, but the thought of killing someone still did.
Yet he had to take a foe's life to become part of something bigger, part of a dream created by Denethor long time ago, before his, even before Boromir's birth. Maybe even before Denethor himself had been born.
Faramir shuddered; kill to make a dream live. He had neither understood it, nor shared it, but he was from the Steward's family and his task was to become Boromir's advisor one day, so he had to become part of the dream named Gondor.
Slowly, he traced the cold blade from the top to the hilt. Engraved sings representing his noble family were running and tickling beneath his fingertips. Maybe if they had not been there and he had been a simple boy, then he would have had a chance to make his own choice.
Faramir banned the outrageously appealing thought. Things were the way they were and his place was not where he chose to be, but where he was ordered. Whether he liked it or not. All he could do was to make the best out of it.
To put the whole company apart was probably not the best start and signs of his loyalty. The only thing that comforted him was his certainty that Boromir could understand his temper. He could surely understand Boromir now. His brother was right as usually.
Something rustled and a dark figure came to his side. Although its face was hidden in the darkness Faramir recognised it immediately.
He moved aside a little to make room for the newcomer although it was not necessary because there was room enough. The newcomer accepted his silent, though reluctant, invitation.
Tiris stepped to his side and sat down,
"Do you believe that the war with Harad will end one day?"
Faramir gazed at his feet. Tiris' question was more or less statement that did not need an answer. Yet Tiris was obviously waiting for one. So at length he answered slowly, "No. I wish so, but I do not believe it. This war has been going on for as long as Harad and Gondor border. The Haradrims are too proud to forget their reasons, however deceived they may appear to us."
Tiris snorted. "Many lives have already been spent in it, without being any closer to the solution than at the start."
Over this conversation Faramir felt his inner turmoil growing.
For a moment Tiris fell silent, but his quiet mood was pensive. All of a sudden he whispered, "I am afraid to die."
The confession was so quiet that Faramir's head came up and he looked at Tiris not sure whether his own senses were not betraying him. He could see Tiris quite clearly in the moonlight and it was not the face of the self-assured artist.
Faramir asked, his throat tight, "What are you saying?"
"Let us run away! Somewhere far away, there we could start to live again. To the North!"
"But that would be desertion!" Faramir almost cried out in horror at the dishonourableness of the very core of the idea.
Tiris got to his feet, looking around fearfully whether a night guard could hear them.
"Come we will flee. There are plenty of places in Middle Earth where we could hide and no one would look for us there!"
Faramir was speechless. His face reddened with shame for only considering the option.
His throat suddenly convulsed into a knot and there was nothing he could have choked past this barrier, though there were many things he wanted to say, all at once.
Faramir grabbed Tiris' hand and pulled him back to the ground. He knelt before him and in a hushed, unsteady voice explained, "I cannot come with you although I am afraid to stay. I could not let my brother behind! I cannot leave Boromir's side! I cannot leave my brother, my captain!"
"Faramir! Cease to dream about of the Steward's favour, of victories and fame. He has gold all around him, but not in his heart!"
Faramir choked as his initial fury gave way to sadness, "I cannot! If you must flee, I will not say a word, but do not ask me again. The temptation is too great and I am too weak to be sure that I could resist again."
Tiris got up to his feet abruptly, "You are a fool! You blindly follow men who cannot love!"
But before he could make a move away, Faramir grabbed his hand anew, pleading, "Leave, if you must, but let us not part on bad terms. Anger is a bad counsellor and time a treacherous friend. Let us not part in hurt!"
Tiris looked down at Faramir who was on one knee bent by his feet. In his eyes his previous anger still shone, but Faramir could tell it was replaced by a softer expression.
"Faramir, always so noble even if pleading on his knees. You gave me the honour of calling myself your friend, and if you wish for me to stay, I will."
Faramir got to his feet, his voice filled with gratefulness, "Aye. I wish for that. Though my heart tells me I have no right to ask such a thing of you, I will do it anyway. I will not listen to it this time!"
Tiris shoulders slumped down, yet it appeared that a great weight had been taken from him. Then he added in thick voice, "The only way how to live a happy life is to act upon your emotions."
Tiris stood up and slowly walked away.
Faramir felt relieved in the sudden loneliness. He looked up. The stars in the sky were bright and some of them blinked at him, as if to encourage him before tomorrow. Faramir realised that he was smiling at them dreamily.
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Alex-oh yeah I can imagine, all that terrible moments without my story ;)) (okey, that sounded terrible). But thanks for your insightful comment. I was almost doubting
that my own impression of Tiris was wrong, but you told me it wasn't. Yeah, I love him too. He is so strange.
This next chapter will tell you, or already told you a lot about him, and there will be more. Trust me.
The painting he was working on really exists- it's work my friend had done as her homework for her architecture lesson.
And honestly, I like that sentence a lot too. Dont know why though :)
tHe InSaNe One-Well whether things would get worse for Faramir, I can't tell it would spoil everything :) And about Denethor, I wonder what you would say at the end ;) (I am terrible, I know)
Caroly-Yay a new reader! Hm it came to the update, admitedly not so soon, but hey, it's me we are talking here about. I love Boromir-Faramir interaction and their relationship as well, that's
why I center my stories around them. I hope that the rest of the story would keep making justice to their characters.
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.