Disclaimer: None of the characters, places, or anything else in here
belongs to me.
Warning: Faramir gets a few bumps in this chapter (or 17 - whichever you prefer). *cough* - Denethor is involved - *cough* I don't know if I'm particularly pleased with the way this chapter ended up. *hint hint* Review, please!!
Elektra12: My third reviewer ever!! *hug* I wonder if I should keep a tally. Anyway, does that mean you think that this is a good Faramir story? If so, I am SO happy!! I intend to update a chapter as soon as I finish revising each chapter, which is pretty often, since my homework is very light this week. Thanks for the compliment!!
LeeAnn: My fourth reviewer ever!! *hug* I'm so glad I've hooked someone - I've always wanted to do that. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. As I said above, I'll be updating pretty often, especially since I want to have this finished before Christmas, which should be plenty of time. Make sure to check back!! Thanks a bundle for reviewing, and for the encouragement!!
Wow. I feel extraordinarily giddy.
______________________________
Chapter Four: Memories of a Staircase
Faramir, once dismissed, made his way back to the Steward's quarters. He wanted to get his pencil and sketchbook, so that he could draw in the archives in peace that night, and not even return to the rooms until later. His hand hesitated as it turned the doorknob. He dreaded going back into the rooms, and resolved to just dash in and out. He entered the rooms, and went up the private stairs to the bedchamber with a sigh. [I have to clear all of Father's things out of here.it's a complete wreck. Maybe I'll get started after the holiday.] He ran across the room to the table on which his sketchbook lay, picked it up, and began to run to the spiral staircase. Suddenly, his feet tripped over themselves, and he felt himself begin to pitch forward. Falling down the stairs, he felt his head take a blow, and all went black.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Denethor's voice was growing hoarse from shouting. "How dare you skip your sword lessons! And then I find out that you snuck off to spend the afternoon in the library! Go on, what do you have to say for yourself?"
Faramir took a step backward, his foot landing halfway off the top step of the staircase. "It's - Midwinter," he stammered. "I just wanted to spend the day in the library - I wanted to have some fun - the swordmaster was late. I'm sorry." The boy bowed his head in shame. "I promise it won't happen again."
"Saying sorry doesn't excuse you - what is done is done, and you have lied to me. You told me you went to practice, and you did not," Denethor raged.
"I didn't want you to yell at me," Faramir whispered. "That's why I lied."
Denethor grew even angrier. "What an ungrateful, useless, cowardly child! You seek to blame me for your disobedience?" He threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Valar, why have I been cursed with such a son?" Faramir's head bowed lower. "You must be taught your place, boy," Denethor said, as he lifted his arm to strike.
The blow came down hard on the side of Faramir's head, harder than he had expected. He began to lose his balance. As he fell, Faramir gave a cry, and tried to reach out and grasp his father's robes, but Denethor took a step back, and Faramir's body landed in a heap on the stairs. However, he began to roll and could not stop himself. Faramir's head smashed into the wall, as his body toppled along their staircase. He continued to tumble down the stairs, only stopping when he felt level ground beneath him. He took a sharp intake of breath, but winced as his body flared up in pain. He tried to get up, but found that he could not, so he decided to wait for Denethor to come down the stairs. He waited. And waited. Until at last, Faramir could not keep his eyes open, and he let himself be taken by the darkness.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faramir awoke to find himself on the floor at the foot of the stairs. He gave a groan, and pulled himself to his feet. His head was throbbing, and he tried to recall what had happened. In the vagueness of his memory, he thought he remembered falling down the stairs. [Yes, that's what happened. Father hit me.] But then another recollection came to him - [Father's dead.] Even still, he rubbed his head where he thought Denethor's blow had struck. There was nothing there, except the ache that was pounding its way through his entire head. Looking at the floor, he saw his sketchbook, its cover bent and a few pages wrinkled, and he remembered what had occurred. [Of course! I tripped over myself! What a fool I am.] He leaned over to pick up the pad, but the world began to spin. He stumbled to a chair, and lowered himself into it. [I'd better just rest until I feel better,] he decided, after an unsuccessful attempt to stand up. [I'll just close my eyes for a moment.]
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Faramir!" Boromir's voice broke through the haze that had gathered in his mind. "Faramir, what happened?" Faramir opened his eyes to see Boromir's concerned face leaning in over him.
"Boromir, it is you," Faramir struggled to keep his eyes open. Pain seemed to flow through his body. "The stairs." he trailed off, not wishing to tell his brother about the argument with Denethor.
"You fell down the stairs?" Boromir looked closely at his brother. Faramir nodded his head, but winced slightly with the motion. His brother noticed. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so - but I do hurt a bit." Faramir watched Boromir hand move closer, and touch his forehead. He drew back quickly, with alarm written on his face.
"Faramir, you have a huge cut on your forehead! You should go to the healers - I can help you walk, if you like." Boromir turned his hand so that Faramir could see the blood streaked on it.
"I'm not going." [Father doesn't need another excuse to think I'm weak.]
"You are going - and what's more than that, I'm going to carry you there myself." Faramir began to protest, but knew that it was pointless, since he didn't have the strength to resist. He closed his eyes, and felt his older brother's strong arms lift him easily. He fell back asleep, his quiet breathing steady.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faramir opened his eyes, to find himself in his Father's chair. He stood unsteadily, and rubbed the back of his neck, sore from an uncomfortable position. [I wonder what time it is,] he mused. Then suddenly, it hit him. [We were supposed to be back in the dining room in a half-hour!] He looked out the window, noting that the Sun's position was uncomfortably low. He dashed out of the room, and ran into Gimli in the hallway.
"Watch your step, Lord Faramir," Gimli said. "It is unwise to trip over passersby."
"I'm sorry, Gimli, I didn't see you."
"No, you didn't," Gimli said with a snort. "A half-hour Aragorn said, not nearly two."
"How long?" Faramir's jaw dropped. [It couldn't have been that long.]
"You were missing for two hours. Aragorn just dismissed us - he got tired of waiting. As did Legolas and I. That's twice in one week!"
Faramir nodded his head wearily. "I know, Gimli, and I'm sorry. I have to go make my apologies to the King, so if you'll excuse me."
"Go ahead," Gimli said with a wave of his hand. "Take your time. We're not doing anything the rest of the day." He looked at Faramir, annoyance showing plainly on his face.
"Thank you," Faramir said. He turned towards Aragorn's office, thinking to look there first. [I hope Aragorn isn't too angry. The last thing I need is another argument.]
Warning: Faramir gets a few bumps in this chapter (or 17 - whichever you prefer). *cough* - Denethor is involved - *cough* I don't know if I'm particularly pleased with the way this chapter ended up. *hint hint* Review, please!!
Elektra12: My third reviewer ever!! *hug* I wonder if I should keep a tally. Anyway, does that mean you think that this is a good Faramir story? If so, I am SO happy!! I intend to update a chapter as soon as I finish revising each chapter, which is pretty often, since my homework is very light this week. Thanks for the compliment!!
LeeAnn: My fourth reviewer ever!! *hug* I'm so glad I've hooked someone - I've always wanted to do that. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. As I said above, I'll be updating pretty often, especially since I want to have this finished before Christmas, which should be plenty of time. Make sure to check back!! Thanks a bundle for reviewing, and for the encouragement!!
Wow. I feel extraordinarily giddy.
______________________________
Chapter Four: Memories of a Staircase
Faramir, once dismissed, made his way back to the Steward's quarters. He wanted to get his pencil and sketchbook, so that he could draw in the archives in peace that night, and not even return to the rooms until later. His hand hesitated as it turned the doorknob. He dreaded going back into the rooms, and resolved to just dash in and out. He entered the rooms, and went up the private stairs to the bedchamber with a sigh. [I have to clear all of Father's things out of here.it's a complete wreck. Maybe I'll get started after the holiday.] He ran across the room to the table on which his sketchbook lay, picked it up, and began to run to the spiral staircase. Suddenly, his feet tripped over themselves, and he felt himself begin to pitch forward. Falling down the stairs, he felt his head take a blow, and all went black.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Denethor's voice was growing hoarse from shouting. "How dare you skip your sword lessons! And then I find out that you snuck off to spend the afternoon in the library! Go on, what do you have to say for yourself?"
Faramir took a step backward, his foot landing halfway off the top step of the staircase. "It's - Midwinter," he stammered. "I just wanted to spend the day in the library - I wanted to have some fun - the swordmaster was late. I'm sorry." The boy bowed his head in shame. "I promise it won't happen again."
"Saying sorry doesn't excuse you - what is done is done, and you have lied to me. You told me you went to practice, and you did not," Denethor raged.
"I didn't want you to yell at me," Faramir whispered. "That's why I lied."
Denethor grew even angrier. "What an ungrateful, useless, cowardly child! You seek to blame me for your disobedience?" He threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Valar, why have I been cursed with such a son?" Faramir's head bowed lower. "You must be taught your place, boy," Denethor said, as he lifted his arm to strike.
The blow came down hard on the side of Faramir's head, harder than he had expected. He began to lose his balance. As he fell, Faramir gave a cry, and tried to reach out and grasp his father's robes, but Denethor took a step back, and Faramir's body landed in a heap on the stairs. However, he began to roll and could not stop himself. Faramir's head smashed into the wall, as his body toppled along their staircase. He continued to tumble down the stairs, only stopping when he felt level ground beneath him. He took a sharp intake of breath, but winced as his body flared up in pain. He tried to get up, but found that he could not, so he decided to wait for Denethor to come down the stairs. He waited. And waited. Until at last, Faramir could not keep his eyes open, and he let himself be taken by the darkness.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faramir awoke to find himself on the floor at the foot of the stairs. He gave a groan, and pulled himself to his feet. His head was throbbing, and he tried to recall what had happened. In the vagueness of his memory, he thought he remembered falling down the stairs. [Yes, that's what happened. Father hit me.] But then another recollection came to him - [Father's dead.] Even still, he rubbed his head where he thought Denethor's blow had struck. There was nothing there, except the ache that was pounding its way through his entire head. Looking at the floor, he saw his sketchbook, its cover bent and a few pages wrinkled, and he remembered what had occurred. [Of course! I tripped over myself! What a fool I am.] He leaned over to pick up the pad, but the world began to spin. He stumbled to a chair, and lowered himself into it. [I'd better just rest until I feel better,] he decided, after an unsuccessful attempt to stand up. [I'll just close my eyes for a moment.]
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Faramir!" Boromir's voice broke through the haze that had gathered in his mind. "Faramir, what happened?" Faramir opened his eyes to see Boromir's concerned face leaning in over him.
"Boromir, it is you," Faramir struggled to keep his eyes open. Pain seemed to flow through his body. "The stairs." he trailed off, not wishing to tell his brother about the argument with Denethor.
"You fell down the stairs?" Boromir looked closely at his brother. Faramir nodded his head, but winced slightly with the motion. His brother noticed. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so - but I do hurt a bit." Faramir watched Boromir hand move closer, and touch his forehead. He drew back quickly, with alarm written on his face.
"Faramir, you have a huge cut on your forehead! You should go to the healers - I can help you walk, if you like." Boromir turned his hand so that Faramir could see the blood streaked on it.
"I'm not going." [Father doesn't need another excuse to think I'm weak.]
"You are going - and what's more than that, I'm going to carry you there myself." Faramir began to protest, but knew that it was pointless, since he didn't have the strength to resist. He closed his eyes, and felt his older brother's strong arms lift him easily. He fell back asleep, his quiet breathing steady.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faramir opened his eyes, to find himself in his Father's chair. He stood unsteadily, and rubbed the back of his neck, sore from an uncomfortable position. [I wonder what time it is,] he mused. Then suddenly, it hit him. [We were supposed to be back in the dining room in a half-hour!] He looked out the window, noting that the Sun's position was uncomfortably low. He dashed out of the room, and ran into Gimli in the hallway.
"Watch your step, Lord Faramir," Gimli said. "It is unwise to trip over passersby."
"I'm sorry, Gimli, I didn't see you."
"No, you didn't," Gimli said with a snort. "A half-hour Aragorn said, not nearly two."
"How long?" Faramir's jaw dropped. [It couldn't have been that long.]
"You were missing for two hours. Aragorn just dismissed us - he got tired of waiting. As did Legolas and I. That's twice in one week!"
Faramir nodded his head wearily. "I know, Gimli, and I'm sorry. I have to go make my apologies to the King, so if you'll excuse me."
"Go ahead," Gimli said with a wave of his hand. "Take your time. We're not doing anything the rest of the day." He looked at Faramir, annoyance showing plainly on his face.
"Thank you," Faramir said. He turned towards Aragorn's office, thinking to look there first. [I hope Aragorn isn't too angry. The last thing I need is another argument.]