uFARAMIR THERAPY SESSION NO. 3/u
The therapist awoke with a start from a dream that had ended with her standing fearfully before a great charge of elephants equipped with catapults on their backs. They had begun to fire on her as she stood in the road wearing her suit, her handbag flung at her feet and her arms raised in horror.
She gave a start as a sharp bang leapt into the silence of her room, fearing that her dream hadn't been such a false reality. Rubbing her eyes and clattering a hand across her bedside table she searched for her clock. The glowing red letters blinked wearily at her: 1:30 am Sunday morning. The orange glow of the street light filtered through the thin curtains and traced wobbly lines of amber across her bed sheets and floor.
The therapist lay back once more with a sigh, thinking that in the morning she'd seek out the meaning of her dream, when the bang came again. Something kept hitting her window with enough force to scare her silly, but gently enough that the glass remained unscathed.
Grumbling about city kids, she threw her bed covers aside and yanked the curtain open, wincing a little at the bright glare of the lamp outside. The garden looked empty at first - roses, herbs, forget-me-nots and lilies about the small pond, but no swaying teenagers clutching bottles. Yet something was there in the shadows under the willow tree - there was a patch of shadow not as blotchy as the rest where a more solid item was casting its own darkness.
The therapist pushed the window open slowly, peering out only a little lest whoever it was decided to throw any more stones. "Hello?" she called softly, feeling a little odd, as though she were talking to herself. "Is anyone there?"
"Miss Julie? I am sorry I had to wake you, but we need to set off much sooner - war is imminent in Gondor and I cannot take you to my land once the Enemy has moved."
The therapist gave a snort of disbelief and leant heavily on the frame. "What?"
"We need to set out today!"
She shook her head - II'm still dreaming/I. "Faramir.what are you doing at my house? It's one-thirty in the morning!"
The figure came out from under the tree. He was cloaked in green and only a proud chin and the tip of a nose were visible in the shadow cast by his hood. "I had to tell you - I knew that if I had arrived later you wouldn't have had time to pack in time for us to set off! We need to leave at eight."
The therapist blinked and passed a well-manicured hand through her hair. She wasn't at all surprised to see a large bow and a quiver of arrows slung over Faramir's shoulder. "Okay," she took a deep breath. "Come to the back door - I'll let you in."
The therapist pulled the window and the curtains shut and turned back into her dark room. She gave herself a reassuring pinch on the thigh through her thin nightie just to check she was awake and picked up her dressing gown, tying the sash tightly. With heavy clomping steps the therapist descended her wooden steps and pulled the door keys off their hook with a clatter and a jangle. She clumsily unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"I'm sorry to wake you, Miss Julie, really I am." Faramir stepped in upon her gesture and she was suddenly aware how tall he was. She had never been considered particularly tiny, and she wore heels most of the time, but she was now aware that he was a good five inches the taller.
"It's okay.I mean it must be important for you to come here. I just hope you appreciate how truly surreal this is for me," she folded her arms and bit her lip, watching him stride around her small table before laying his weapons and cloak upon it.
"Will it take you long to pack?" he asked, ignoring her question and studying the walls of the room.
"Uh.no I don't think so. You said you had food organised and I know which clothes I'm taking. It's not like I'm going to need any beauty products where we're going, right?"
He looked down at her and smiled a little. "I don't see why you should need any at all, Miss Julie."
She blushed furiously and tucked her hair behind her ears quickly, studying the linoleum floor. "Well, you can get some rest before we set off, surely. I'll make up the couch for you - it's not much, but it's a bed at least. I'll set my alarm for six and then I'll have plenty of time to be ready," and with that the therapist bustled past Faramir and out through the small foyer to the living room. She gave the pedal at the side of the sofa a hefty kick and cursed the pain stabbing up her toes as the couch collapsed into a bed. Hopping across the room, she flung open a small cupboard and hauled out several thick woollen blankets.
Faramir stood in the doorway with raised eyebrows as she straightened out the covers with finality and slammed the cupboard door closed. "Voila!" she spread her hands and moved to leave the room but he put a hand out and caught her by the arm.
"Thank you. Will you wake me when your alarm is raised?"
She stared for a moment, unable to think of what she should be saying. "I.I.at six? Yes of course." Then she slipped her arm from his grip and padded up the stairs.
The alarm went off at six, just as it had been instructed to, and the therapist lay there listening to its incessant bleeping. The bed was very warm, and she could feel the air on her cheeks like the gust from an open refrigerator. She wasn't good at mornings and she was used to her Sunday lie-ins. After about five minutes she felt her eyelids drooping again as she slid back under the covers.
Much to her surprise, however, the alarm stopped and something gave her shoulder a little squeeze through the thick duvet. "Miss Julie?" the voice sounded amused. "You still wish to see Gondor, I presume? I am sorry to disturb your privacy yet again as well as your sleep, but you really must start to pack."
The therapist peered out of her bed covers with round eyes. This she had not expected. "Okay, thanks. I'll just be down in a minute. Um, you can get some breakfast if you want - you know where the kitchen is."
Faramir, who was wearing only his green woollen trousers and a thick white shirt, nodded graciously and left the room, closing the door softly as he went.
The therapist took a moment to compose herself, then flung back the covers with finality and raced across to her small bathroom, throwing the doors open and turning the shower on before hastily gathering her chosen clothes from her cupboard.
It was a quarter past seven when she went downstairs, frizzy hair-dried hair tamed by a simple ponytail and cold tamed by woolly jumper and cotton trousers. Faramir wasn't in the kitchen, so she guessed he had gone back to the living room to get ready and she slung her own reasonably sized bag on the table next to his weapons and cloak.
In a few minutes she was munching on a bowl of Cornflakes and knocking on the living room door. "Faramir? It's about half-past now. Have you had breakfast?"
The door opened a crack and one of Faramir's grey eyes peered around it, "No, I was not sure how you arranged your kitchen and did not wish to make a mess of the place."
"Can I bring you anything?"
"Do you have fruit? I should like an apple if you have them."
"Yes, I have apples. Red okay?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Is that all you want?"
"Yes, thank you that would be fine."
The door clicked shut and the therapist gave a shrug to herself and slurped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. She returned to the door with an apple and gave another knock. "You still want the apple?"
The door opened a bit wider and a bare arm reached out, palm upwards. Staring at the numerous scratches and bruises along its pale length, the therapist placed the apple firmly in the hand. "Thank you, Miss Julie." The arm retreated and the door closed.
The therapist scraped the dregs of her Cornflakes out of the bowl and sauntered back into the kitchen, frowning as she licked the spoon. She guessed such minor injuries were just the results of constant sword- fighting, but she still didn't like to think about that - she was putting her beloved reality on hold for the time being to trust in Faramir. She didn't want to think of swords or wars or any such things; all she wanted was to help Faramir with his family troubles, because that was her job, and that was why he had come to her.
Satisfied that she was sure of her role and her path, the therapist shut the dishwasher door with a grim smile.
The therapist awoke with a start from a dream that had ended with her standing fearfully before a great charge of elephants equipped with catapults on their backs. They had begun to fire on her as she stood in the road wearing her suit, her handbag flung at her feet and her arms raised in horror.
She gave a start as a sharp bang leapt into the silence of her room, fearing that her dream hadn't been such a false reality. Rubbing her eyes and clattering a hand across her bedside table she searched for her clock. The glowing red letters blinked wearily at her: 1:30 am Sunday morning. The orange glow of the street light filtered through the thin curtains and traced wobbly lines of amber across her bed sheets and floor.
The therapist lay back once more with a sigh, thinking that in the morning she'd seek out the meaning of her dream, when the bang came again. Something kept hitting her window with enough force to scare her silly, but gently enough that the glass remained unscathed.
Grumbling about city kids, she threw her bed covers aside and yanked the curtain open, wincing a little at the bright glare of the lamp outside. The garden looked empty at first - roses, herbs, forget-me-nots and lilies about the small pond, but no swaying teenagers clutching bottles. Yet something was there in the shadows under the willow tree - there was a patch of shadow not as blotchy as the rest where a more solid item was casting its own darkness.
The therapist pushed the window open slowly, peering out only a little lest whoever it was decided to throw any more stones. "Hello?" she called softly, feeling a little odd, as though she were talking to herself. "Is anyone there?"
"Miss Julie? I am sorry I had to wake you, but we need to set off much sooner - war is imminent in Gondor and I cannot take you to my land once the Enemy has moved."
The therapist gave a snort of disbelief and leant heavily on the frame. "What?"
"We need to set out today!"
She shook her head - II'm still dreaming/I. "Faramir.what are you doing at my house? It's one-thirty in the morning!"
The figure came out from under the tree. He was cloaked in green and only a proud chin and the tip of a nose were visible in the shadow cast by his hood. "I had to tell you - I knew that if I had arrived later you wouldn't have had time to pack in time for us to set off! We need to leave at eight."
The therapist blinked and passed a well-manicured hand through her hair. She wasn't at all surprised to see a large bow and a quiver of arrows slung over Faramir's shoulder. "Okay," she took a deep breath. "Come to the back door - I'll let you in."
The therapist pulled the window and the curtains shut and turned back into her dark room. She gave herself a reassuring pinch on the thigh through her thin nightie just to check she was awake and picked up her dressing gown, tying the sash tightly. With heavy clomping steps the therapist descended her wooden steps and pulled the door keys off their hook with a clatter and a jangle. She clumsily unlocked the door and pulled it open.
"I'm sorry to wake you, Miss Julie, really I am." Faramir stepped in upon her gesture and she was suddenly aware how tall he was. She had never been considered particularly tiny, and she wore heels most of the time, but she was now aware that he was a good five inches the taller.
"It's okay.I mean it must be important for you to come here. I just hope you appreciate how truly surreal this is for me," she folded her arms and bit her lip, watching him stride around her small table before laying his weapons and cloak upon it.
"Will it take you long to pack?" he asked, ignoring her question and studying the walls of the room.
"Uh.no I don't think so. You said you had food organised and I know which clothes I'm taking. It's not like I'm going to need any beauty products where we're going, right?"
He looked down at her and smiled a little. "I don't see why you should need any at all, Miss Julie."
She blushed furiously and tucked her hair behind her ears quickly, studying the linoleum floor. "Well, you can get some rest before we set off, surely. I'll make up the couch for you - it's not much, but it's a bed at least. I'll set my alarm for six and then I'll have plenty of time to be ready," and with that the therapist bustled past Faramir and out through the small foyer to the living room. She gave the pedal at the side of the sofa a hefty kick and cursed the pain stabbing up her toes as the couch collapsed into a bed. Hopping across the room, she flung open a small cupboard and hauled out several thick woollen blankets.
Faramir stood in the doorway with raised eyebrows as she straightened out the covers with finality and slammed the cupboard door closed. "Voila!" she spread her hands and moved to leave the room but he put a hand out and caught her by the arm.
"Thank you. Will you wake me when your alarm is raised?"
She stared for a moment, unable to think of what she should be saying. "I.I.at six? Yes of course." Then she slipped her arm from his grip and padded up the stairs.
The alarm went off at six, just as it had been instructed to, and the therapist lay there listening to its incessant bleeping. The bed was very warm, and she could feel the air on her cheeks like the gust from an open refrigerator. She wasn't good at mornings and she was used to her Sunday lie-ins. After about five minutes she felt her eyelids drooping again as she slid back under the covers.
Much to her surprise, however, the alarm stopped and something gave her shoulder a little squeeze through the thick duvet. "Miss Julie?" the voice sounded amused. "You still wish to see Gondor, I presume? I am sorry to disturb your privacy yet again as well as your sleep, but you really must start to pack."
The therapist peered out of her bed covers with round eyes. This she had not expected. "Okay, thanks. I'll just be down in a minute. Um, you can get some breakfast if you want - you know where the kitchen is."
Faramir, who was wearing only his green woollen trousers and a thick white shirt, nodded graciously and left the room, closing the door softly as he went.
The therapist took a moment to compose herself, then flung back the covers with finality and raced across to her small bathroom, throwing the doors open and turning the shower on before hastily gathering her chosen clothes from her cupboard.
It was a quarter past seven when she went downstairs, frizzy hair-dried hair tamed by a simple ponytail and cold tamed by woolly jumper and cotton trousers. Faramir wasn't in the kitchen, so she guessed he had gone back to the living room to get ready and she slung her own reasonably sized bag on the table next to his weapons and cloak.
In a few minutes she was munching on a bowl of Cornflakes and knocking on the living room door. "Faramir? It's about half-past now. Have you had breakfast?"
The door opened a crack and one of Faramir's grey eyes peered around it, "No, I was not sure how you arranged your kitchen and did not wish to make a mess of the place."
"Can I bring you anything?"
"Do you have fruit? I should like an apple if you have them."
"Yes, I have apples. Red okay?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Is that all you want?"
"Yes, thank you that would be fine."
The door clicked shut and the therapist gave a shrug to herself and slurped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. She returned to the door with an apple and gave another knock. "You still want the apple?"
The door opened a bit wider and a bare arm reached out, palm upwards. Staring at the numerous scratches and bruises along its pale length, the therapist placed the apple firmly in the hand. "Thank you, Miss Julie." The arm retreated and the door closed.
The therapist scraped the dregs of her Cornflakes out of the bowl and sauntered back into the kitchen, frowning as she licked the spoon. She guessed such minor injuries were just the results of constant sword- fighting, but she still didn't like to think about that - she was putting her beloved reality on hold for the time being to trust in Faramir. She didn't want to think of swords or wars or any such things; all she wanted was to help Faramir with his family troubles, because that was her job, and that was why he had come to her.
Satisfied that she was sure of her role and her path, the therapist shut the dishwasher door with a grim smile.