Disclaimer: First of all, I do not own this nor any character, phrases, or plot bunnies you may recognize from JRR Tolkiens' Books or Peter Jacksons' films, second of all If did (which I don't) I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.
Dedications and thanks: Id like give A LOT of credit to Starwolf the Insane (userid=136788 Read her stuff, its good!) if it wasn't for and RP done by the two of us, the entire first chapter would never have been written and I would have never come up with ideas for the second and third, so THANKS Mellon!
Rated: R
FYI- This Story is Rated for Rape and violence, and if you care to know a tiny tiny tiny mention of suicide. If this squicks you, click the back button now. This story is only three chapters long so I hope you enjoy, Flames will be used to cook toast DO NOT WRITE ME ABOUT GRAMMAR, other then that, criticism welcome. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!
FYI 2- This chapter is the reason the story is rated R, if incest rape squicks you, please click the back button now. You've been warned
Chapter 2
Silence stifled the room, ridged ness and words unsaid hung above them threatening to fall, and as it seemed to Faramir, crush him as one would a bothersome, and worthless insect. Boromirs piercing stare had him feeling exposed, naked; the question, actually more of a statement, weighed so heavily on the young mans' heart, he felt it might shatter at any moment.
"Help me understand brother." The elder repeated evenly, his arms folded defiantly across his chest and lips pursed in suppressed anger, "Because I do not know what it is I have fallen into. A pitiful of asps it appears, all waiting to shred a piece of my heart; and you are right, I know not of what I speak, I do not understand. I do not understand why you use your own steady blade to take away the life it protects, I do not understand why you, good and great and kind as you are, wishes to join our kin long passed to the spirit realm. Help me understand why my beautiful, amazing brother cannot see what other see in himself." Cracking, a wall ages old, Faramir's eyes burned, tears suppressed by years of denial tumbled like a waterfall, healing and releasing, a strong arm wrapped itself around his shaking form, pulling Faramir into a loving embrace. "Shhh, I'm sorry for yelling but this terrifies me brother. Come now tell me what is wrong Faramir, please let me help you."
"You can't," Faramir whispered, willing his voice to form words "It is a past I wish to have left behind, but I fear it will never cease haunting my dreams, my thoughts. I am not innocent Brother, no sweet child; my blood, my soul, was tainted long before I understood the world, long before a blade was clutched in my hand, and before I understood love and truth. My innocence was lost to me before my 5th birthday," Unsure of his brother meaning, Boromir pondered past events in his brothers life and was dismayed to discover he had no recollection of his brothers first 8 years of life. Father made sure of that.
"You speak in Riddles brother. I never mastered the interpretation of such eloquent tongue as you well know." Feeling Faramir draw a gasping breath, the elder glanced down worriedly, taking his brothers gaunt features and wide frightened eyes, "Faramir?"
Memories flooded the unoccupied thought space of Faramir's mind, drudging up the day's of torture and hurt dealt to him, times the young man hid in a corner of his mind in hopes of ignoring. His breath seemed to be stolen from him, held tight in his chest as though a tight hand squeezed around him. Minutes passed, hours it seemed, when he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. Shocked, he looked into the silver eyes of Boromir, whose hand was raised, red from the contact of flesh and flesh.
"Are you fine now?" asked Boromir, alarm apparent in his tone. Shakily, Faramir nodded and opened his mouth to speak; For a moment words failed him, and he opened and closed his mouth as a fish would.
"I was….4," managed the man at last, his body shivering from the memories he was reliving "You were traveling, not a rare occurrence as you were nearly of age and were obligated to visit the people of our realm. I missed you I recall and asked father if I could take a horse out and meet you at your first rest, at the time the idea of drunkenness was foreign to me as I had only a bit of wine now an then when I stole from your cup. Never did I think Father was drunk. Of course, when I asked for permission he would not consent,"
*'You are a naughty Boy Faramir, only good boy's deserve rewards.'
'I don't want to be bad Daddy,' the young Faramir told his father with trembling lips….*
Faramir collapsed into his brothers' gentle embrace, memories overpowering him, sobbing into the linen gown as Boromir rocked and murmured calm words into his ear. "I did not know Boromir, I wanted to show father I could rise to his standards, I did not know…..I…I allowed myself to be led to the lowest dungeons, the one used by the last king of old, Isildur."
His sobbing reduced to a shocked silence, and his eyes stared straight, rather emptily and unseeing, "Darkness, it was so-so dark; beady eyes watched me as though I was to be the next meal. I stayed close to father, he held the warm torch; the only light that penetrated the thick black fog." Faramir continued to speak to air, looking anywhere but his brothers' worrisome eyes "We reached the-the quiet room."
"Quiet room?" The question came involuntarily, causing Faramir to cringe
"Yes," Faramir whispered in fear "No sound traveled passed your lips, the air was thick and uncomfortable, so hot so dark. Father told me….he stated much the-the same, suggesting we re-remove our layers."
*'It is quite stifling in here, is it not Faramir? Let us remove a few layers so we can be more comfortable,' *
"It seemed…It seemed logical, the room did constrict me, especially confined in many shirts and apparel, so I-I removed them. But Father…..Father continued remove his own apparel, casting it aside and beckoning for me to approach him, a mad glint in his eyes; Father never frightened me more."
*'Faramir, come lad, come to father' whispered the steward, fixing a lustful stare on the boy 'You look a might feverish boy, come take the rest off'*
"It... I….I felt exposed, he never took his eyes from my skin; Innocence, my own at least, ended in a single moment, that moment," Faramir whispered, attempting to drown out his fathers eloquent words long past, words to draw forth from him the love only a child possesses. Anguish tore through him, stinging his eyes and sticking his heart; some wounds never healed.
"It-It hurt so much Boromir, I did not understand, I did not know he was violating me. Oh Boromir," sobbed the man, clutching the front of the elders shirt "He forced me, It felt as though he ripped me in half, over and-and over until he f-f-finished; Too much, It hurt and my tears made him laugh."
*'Ohhh….Faramir,' the steward purred into the howling boys' ear, agony like being ripped apart seared his small body, as the large man thrust, and the last tears of innocence betrayed trailed across his pain-paled cheek.*
"When…..when he was done, I
th-thought the torture was over, thought I could leave the dark room
behind, forget of the incident and continue without a backwards glance for
father. B-But, it did not end so quickly…"
*'Punishment is not over little one,' Denethor whispered, latching the weak child into rusty steel shackles; old and soiled with human remains the jagged edges dug into the tender, bruised flesh, leaving bloody marks. The cold granite wall met his face forcefully, pain riddled and scared, the child fought against his confinements, struggling against tears and cries, until the barbs of his fathers whip tore bare skin, cutting and shredding watching with mad, intoxicated eyes as the sleek, steel nails drew blood. Hours passed, pain leading to insanity, to pleading and begging for mercy.*
* 'You are worthless aren't you? Aren't you!" screamed he, whipping, and beating until the youngster could gasp out through cries the answer he wanted to hear. Ripping into him, tearing him as the steward once more moaned into his ear, pounding into the tiny body, the bloody boys' weak screams exciting him further. Daybreak at last came, and he left the steamy, dark, blood stained chamber, abandoning the child to bleed in agonizing shame. For he had finally realized the tortured cries had been his own.*
"… He beat me, for the longest while the screams did not resemble my own voice, I could not fight, not for lack of want but I was bound by decayed chains, and held still for fatigue had me. The feel of metal tearing my skin, releasing copper to mix among the remains of prisoners long parted from this world; my voice grew hoarse, and then violated me, ripping into me until I believe the sun rose." Calm acceptance laced these words, but fury did not describe the rage boiling through Boromirs veins, hating himself for being so blind, but the rage forced his thoughts on other matters.
"How many times," Boromir seethed, fury building in his chest, contorting his previously placid mouth. Hanging his head in shame, Faramir whispered in a voice Boromir barley caught
"I do not know Brother, it took place until I came of age," thirteen years, thirteen pins that would be stuck in their father by the morrow. Such pain, how had his brother born it for so long alone? For it seemed to be a black secret held in chains in the back of his mind. The shock of such realizations left him with endless thoughts, and few words, nothing that could be said would consol the aching soul. Being without words, nor calm thought, Boromir gripped Faramir to his breast, finally understanding the tears wetting his beige tunic. Sleep finally claimed the memory weary brother, and his elder laid him down gently into the downy covers, wrapping quilts around his fetal form, and sighing with inner pain at not having realized sooner the madness of the steward.
"I swear brother, if by life or death I can protect you, I will." Whispered Boromir, pushing a stray hair from his slumbering brothers' face and placing a chaste kiss on the tender forehead, "Sleep well love."
