A/N: Hello and welcome. I will not scare you away now that I have gotten
your attention, but I just beg you to give the first chapter a chance
before making a judgment. Review if you would like me to continue.
.
Disclaimer: Faramir is the only thing in this chapter that does not belong to me. He belongs to Tolkien. However, in later chapters (if there are) there will be more things that are not mine.
. .
Raining Dreams
.
Drops of glistening water seemed to sparkle as they slowly dropped to the earth, only to shatter as they impacted the ground. They seemed to suspend themselves for a few seconds before gravity got the best of them, forcing them to plummet. The world was in slow motion as I watch each individual tear-shape fall. I could hear nothing but the sound of each drop hitting my skin and the concrete below; could smell nothing but the earthly scent of the fresh morning and the heavy humidity. I was submersed in it, drowning in the incredible way my senses were affected by the weather. If I wasn't in heaven, I had no idea what was.
A loud screech filled my ears and I snapped from my thoughts. A large truck had stopped on the street.
"Camille!" a booming voice shouted, interrupting my musing and causing me to snap my head in its direction and remove my hand from out the window. "How did the United States incorporate deterrence into the five-prong defensive?"
"Um..." I started, sorting my thoughts.
"E pluribus Unum?"
I ignored him, "It involved nuclear weapons. The United States manufactured nukes to say to the Soviets, 'if you attack us, we'll attack you right back.'"
"At the climax of nuclear manufacture, how many times could we kill every organism on the planet?"
"Twenty-seven."
"How about now, O?" he turned to a girl across the room.
"Six point eight."
He moved onward, forgetting about me temporarily and my eyes drifted to the window. This was no heaven.
"Does this country frighten you? Do your parents fear anything here? What about..."
'Women of this country learned long ago, those without swords could still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain.'
'What do you fear, my lady?'
"That this world will never return to how it was," I muttered a bit too loudly, attracting looks from those around me. I pictured grassy hills and fields, beautiful mountains, never ending forests of sky high trees, and clear lakes, smooth as glass with no pollution. Looking around the classroom at the students I saw green hair, Mohawks, multiple piercings, and clothes that were exposing too much skin, either many sizes too big or too small.
I muttered, a bit more softly this time, "This world would be better off blown up."
The day passed by slowly and I was forced to watch the rain fall from inside my prison-like facility. By the time I was able to escape the indoors, the weather had cleared. A frown quickly formed as I stood there, people chatting excitedly around me as they made their way to their cars. I inhaled deeply and savored what was left of the rain's scent before extracting myself from the crowd which was growing around the door. There was still hope, tomorrow may bring the same weather.
The next day did hold promise. Waking from an uneasy sleep early in the morning, hours before the sun was due to rise, I looked out the window to find fog; a dense, heavy fog causing me to barely make out anything a story below. Knowing no sleep would find me, I threw the covers off and rolled out of bed, blindly side stepping the articles strewn over the floor.
Opening the door, I was blinded by a light that had been left on. Squinting while my eyes adjusted, I was met with unfamiliar undergarments were hanging from the doorknob of the bathroom door across the hall and a black dress a few feet down. Jeans and a ripped t-shirt continued down the path.
Carefully walking down the hall and avoiding the mess along the way I found the hallway blocked at the end. My father lay naked, spread-eagle with his hands wrapped around a blonde whose head was on his chest. I stepped on him, not bothering to find another way around. He groaned and mumbled some incoherent slurred words, but did not wake. Beer bottles were turned on their sides, their contents staining the old carpet.
I felt nothing toward the scene. It happened at least once a week—my father would come home with a new woman, his prize from the bar. I didn't reject it. It was either that or him coming home drunk with a temper or using me to fulfill his need, which thankfully never happened. He has tried, but in his drunken state, his movements are too slow. On more than one occasion I have rendered him unconscious when he was getting on my nerves.
I quickly forgot about my father and grabbed a breakfast bar, slipping into my shoes and a hooded sweatshirt before stepping outside, making sure to take my cell phone and key along. The air was slightly cool and rain was beginning to fall, smothering the fog. By the looks of the clouds, the sunrise wouldn't be seen and the rain would only fall harder as the hours went by, which brought a small smile to my face.
My mind drifted as I walked. Fantasy thoughts filled my head; thoughts of trolls, elves, dwarves, wizards, love, and gorgeous men. A friend and I had involved ourselves in fan fiction after seeing Lord of the Rings over three years past. We dreamed of somehow finding ourselves in Middle-earth, falling in love, being swept off our feet, and living happily ever after. However, no matter how much we dreamed, wished, and spoke of it, we knew it would never come true which is why it is called fiction.
The rain was so heavy I could barely see what was before me, but I knew I had reached the park. I walked across the field blindly to the west side where I could find an acre of thick trees. There, I figured, I could get a little shelter to think before heading back.
A bolt of lightning struck a few feet in front of me with a sickening crack, knocking me to the ground and temporarily blinding me. Stars danced in my vision as I tried to regain my equilibrium. Another crack of lightning lit up the sky and I barely made out the silhouette of a man. I rubbed my eyes so I could make out the figure more clearly. The random lightning aided me slightly and I realized he was coming toward me. I scrambled backward, not bothering to take the time to stand up. I thought I heard him yell something, but thunder rolled across the clearing and swallowed his voice.
The lightning caused and I could no longer see him. I stopped moving, all my senses alert. After a few moments of nothing, I relaxed slightly. A hand suddenly grabbed my ankle and I screamed, kicking the man with my free foot. I heard an 'oof' but his grip did not lessen.
"Get off of me!" I growled, kicking again but this time my foot only met air. A gloved hand covered my mouth and I felt the hand on my ankle release and grab my wrists. I clamped and opened my mouth, trying to bite him, but my lips were in the way. No matter what I did, my attempts would not grant me success. I realized with gloves he would probably not feel my bite anyhow. He pulled me against him and I realized he was wearing some sort of metal protection. The rain panged against it as it fell.
"Please, I mean you no harm," his hot breath grazed the skin of my ear. I struggled his grip. "Peace!" he said more urgently. "I am going to release you, but please do not run. I beg a word with you, but let us seek the shelter of the trees." He paused, "Do you comply?"
I growled and struggled in his grip. His voice had been oddly soothing and had an odd accent I did not recognize. He was strong and I knew I would be no match for him if it came to strength, so I nodded, complying to his wishes.
His hand released my mouth hesitantly and I jerked away from him, but found my wrists still bound in his grip. He let go and I scrambled to my feet. I turned to look at him, his features still not visible in the pouring rain and darkness.
He held both hands up in friendship, "Peace." He took a step forward, picking up something from the ground then starting forward, but noticing me, staying rooted on the spot, he stopped. "Come," he reached for my arm.
"Don't touch me," I spat, stepping away. I wondered what he'd do if I ran. Surely he could over take me if he wished.
"I see you do not trust me," he yelled over the rain. "Please, do not run. I will not chase you if you do, but I would just like a word...out of the rain!"
No matter what I chose to do, I would discover his honesty. But this man was making me curious and I, almost involuntarily, started walking to the trees. However, I did not stop when I entered, but walked to the very heart of the land.
Finally, I stopped, but did not turn. I heard his steps also cease a yard or so behind me.
"What do you want from me?" I asked quietly. Only the sound of heavy droplets of water could be heard from above our heads as I waited for him to answer me.
"Information," he replied simply.
I waited, but he said nothing else. "Well, ask already!" I said a bit too loudly. He appeared in front of me and I jumped in surprise.
"Forgive me, but where I come from it is courtesy to look at one another when conversing.
I studied him, his hair wet and curly, reaching his shoulders. What looked like metal armor covered his shoulders. I took a step back. "Where do you come from?"
"Mina Tirith."
I froze. "Gondor?"
"Yes."
"The White City of Stone in Gondor?"
"Yes."
"Who do you think I am?" I asked, raising my voice.
"I—" he started, confused.
"You expect me to believe you're from Middle-earth? Who are you?"
"Faramir, Captain of Gondor, youngest son of Denethor, Steward of the White City, brother of Boromir...I was somehow separated from my Calvary and I cannot explain why I am here. I wish you to tell me where I have found myself."
"Captain Faramir?" I asked, unbelievingly.
"Please, I need to return to my men...I am...wounded." By the way he said it, it was like he was in denial.
"Wounded?" I asked, thinking he was making this up. "Look, sir, I think—" I stopped in mid-sentence when he fell to his knees.
I thought for a moment then knelt in front of him, touching the wound he clutched on his shoulders. He hissed and my fingers drew away with blood.
"What happened?"
"Arrow...orc arrow."
"Look, I don't know who you are—"
"Fara—"
"—but I'll help you, because by the looks of it, your not doing so well." He nodded. "Let's get you out of this stuff."
Somehow, I helped him struggle out of his armor and I placed it under a tree, covering the pieces with leaves. He objected to the idea of leaving his possessions there.
"Virtually no one comes around here and after we get you fixed, we'll come back for it." I put his uninjured arm, around my shoulder and slowly we started forward. I talked to him as we walked and the more time that passed, the more wanted to believe him.
"His horn washed up on the bank, not a week past, cloven in two." His legs gave out on him, catching me off guard, and sent us both to the ground. "I am not the heir to the stewardship. Rumor is Isildur's heir has returned...not all is lost..."
"Come on, Faramir. We can still make it. Your wound is not fatal unless by loss of blood. If we hurry, we can get you to a---uh...a healer."
"Poison...orcs tip...arrows."
I felt his forehead and he was burning with fever. 'Shit, why didn't I think of that?' "Hang in there, Faramir. Just stay awake. Don't go into the shadow. Faramir!" I shook him. No answer.
Desperately, I felt for his pulse. A soft thump resounded under my fingers and I sighed in relief. It was there, but extremely faint. I laid him on his back and stared at his face, covered in the shadow of the night. What could I do—leave him here to get help? Never.
Tears ran down my face, mixing with the rain. Why was this happening? This wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to go to Middle-earth, fight in amazing battles, and fall in love with a breathtakingly beautiful warrior. Why didn't anything happen the way it was supposed to? Instead, my wish comes true by me finding Faramir near death. Surely this could change the entire fate of Middle-earth.
"Please, Faramir, don't leave me. Don't leave m in this cruel world alone...I'm sorry."
Suddenly, I remembered my cell phone in my pocket. With shaking hands, I quickly got it out and turned it on. It seemed to take eternity to boot up. Then, after reading the screen, I angrily screamed and threw the phone with all my might. No service, my butt!
I looked at the man beside me and gripped his hand. I wanted him to be Prince of Ithilien with all my heart. I didn't believe him, I wanted to believe him.
.
I don't know when or how I fell asleep, but I must have, for in a blink of my eyes it was noon and not a cloud was seen in the sky, which was odd for how much it rained just a few hours earlier. Was this a dream?
I looked at the man. He was beautiful—long blonde-brown curls to his broad shoulders, a short beard and mustache...however, he was deathly pale. I checked his forehead for fever, but instead he was ice-cold. My fingers traced down his face to his neck. No pulse. Tears welled in my eyes. He was dead.
I got up and looked at him. He was in his armor again, but I didn't really think about it. I just started dragging him a few yards away where a large hole was in the ground. It should have been odd that there was a hole eight feet long, four feet wide, six feet deep in the middle of the park, but I didn't really think about it—in fact I didn't really think about anything. It was like in those dreams where you don't know why you do things; you just know you're supposed to. I pushed him in. The problem was, his hand was gripping mine and I panicked, trying to get it loose, but he was falling and my efforts were unsuccessful. Momentum carried him down and me with him, headfirst into darkness.
.
I woke with a shudder and sat up. My head whirled, causing me to close my eyes again. It was all a dream—finding Faramir, his death everything—I thought with a sigh. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed about the fact. I just accepted it and opened my eyes to start another normal day.
.
A/N: Well, that about wraps it up! I may keep this a single chapter fic or post what I have also written depending on reviews...even though I like what I have written. Please review and let me know what you think. This will not be a Mary-Sue and from what I have brainstormed, a single-sided romance for the time being. Please review.
.
Disclaimer: Faramir is the only thing in this chapter that does not belong to me. He belongs to Tolkien. However, in later chapters (if there are) there will be more things that are not mine.
. .
Raining Dreams
.
Drops of glistening water seemed to sparkle as they slowly dropped to the earth, only to shatter as they impacted the ground. They seemed to suspend themselves for a few seconds before gravity got the best of them, forcing them to plummet. The world was in slow motion as I watch each individual tear-shape fall. I could hear nothing but the sound of each drop hitting my skin and the concrete below; could smell nothing but the earthly scent of the fresh morning and the heavy humidity. I was submersed in it, drowning in the incredible way my senses were affected by the weather. If I wasn't in heaven, I had no idea what was.
A loud screech filled my ears and I snapped from my thoughts. A large truck had stopped on the street.
"Camille!" a booming voice shouted, interrupting my musing and causing me to snap my head in its direction and remove my hand from out the window. "How did the United States incorporate deterrence into the five-prong defensive?"
"Um..." I started, sorting my thoughts.
"E pluribus Unum?"
I ignored him, "It involved nuclear weapons. The United States manufactured nukes to say to the Soviets, 'if you attack us, we'll attack you right back.'"
"At the climax of nuclear manufacture, how many times could we kill every organism on the planet?"
"Twenty-seven."
"How about now, O?" he turned to a girl across the room.
"Six point eight."
He moved onward, forgetting about me temporarily and my eyes drifted to the window. This was no heaven.
"Does this country frighten you? Do your parents fear anything here? What about..."
'Women of this country learned long ago, those without swords could still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain.'
'What do you fear, my lady?'
"That this world will never return to how it was," I muttered a bit too loudly, attracting looks from those around me. I pictured grassy hills and fields, beautiful mountains, never ending forests of sky high trees, and clear lakes, smooth as glass with no pollution. Looking around the classroom at the students I saw green hair, Mohawks, multiple piercings, and clothes that were exposing too much skin, either many sizes too big or too small.
I muttered, a bit more softly this time, "This world would be better off blown up."
The day passed by slowly and I was forced to watch the rain fall from inside my prison-like facility. By the time I was able to escape the indoors, the weather had cleared. A frown quickly formed as I stood there, people chatting excitedly around me as they made their way to their cars. I inhaled deeply and savored what was left of the rain's scent before extracting myself from the crowd which was growing around the door. There was still hope, tomorrow may bring the same weather.
The next day did hold promise. Waking from an uneasy sleep early in the morning, hours before the sun was due to rise, I looked out the window to find fog; a dense, heavy fog causing me to barely make out anything a story below. Knowing no sleep would find me, I threw the covers off and rolled out of bed, blindly side stepping the articles strewn over the floor.
Opening the door, I was blinded by a light that had been left on. Squinting while my eyes adjusted, I was met with unfamiliar undergarments were hanging from the doorknob of the bathroom door across the hall and a black dress a few feet down. Jeans and a ripped t-shirt continued down the path.
Carefully walking down the hall and avoiding the mess along the way I found the hallway blocked at the end. My father lay naked, spread-eagle with his hands wrapped around a blonde whose head was on his chest. I stepped on him, not bothering to find another way around. He groaned and mumbled some incoherent slurred words, but did not wake. Beer bottles were turned on their sides, their contents staining the old carpet.
I felt nothing toward the scene. It happened at least once a week—my father would come home with a new woman, his prize from the bar. I didn't reject it. It was either that or him coming home drunk with a temper or using me to fulfill his need, which thankfully never happened. He has tried, but in his drunken state, his movements are too slow. On more than one occasion I have rendered him unconscious when he was getting on my nerves.
I quickly forgot about my father and grabbed a breakfast bar, slipping into my shoes and a hooded sweatshirt before stepping outside, making sure to take my cell phone and key along. The air was slightly cool and rain was beginning to fall, smothering the fog. By the looks of the clouds, the sunrise wouldn't be seen and the rain would only fall harder as the hours went by, which brought a small smile to my face.
My mind drifted as I walked. Fantasy thoughts filled my head; thoughts of trolls, elves, dwarves, wizards, love, and gorgeous men. A friend and I had involved ourselves in fan fiction after seeing Lord of the Rings over three years past. We dreamed of somehow finding ourselves in Middle-earth, falling in love, being swept off our feet, and living happily ever after. However, no matter how much we dreamed, wished, and spoke of it, we knew it would never come true which is why it is called fiction.
The rain was so heavy I could barely see what was before me, but I knew I had reached the park. I walked across the field blindly to the west side where I could find an acre of thick trees. There, I figured, I could get a little shelter to think before heading back.
A bolt of lightning struck a few feet in front of me with a sickening crack, knocking me to the ground and temporarily blinding me. Stars danced in my vision as I tried to regain my equilibrium. Another crack of lightning lit up the sky and I barely made out the silhouette of a man. I rubbed my eyes so I could make out the figure more clearly. The random lightning aided me slightly and I realized he was coming toward me. I scrambled backward, not bothering to take the time to stand up. I thought I heard him yell something, but thunder rolled across the clearing and swallowed his voice.
The lightning caused and I could no longer see him. I stopped moving, all my senses alert. After a few moments of nothing, I relaxed slightly. A hand suddenly grabbed my ankle and I screamed, kicking the man with my free foot. I heard an 'oof' but his grip did not lessen.
"Get off of me!" I growled, kicking again but this time my foot only met air. A gloved hand covered my mouth and I felt the hand on my ankle release and grab my wrists. I clamped and opened my mouth, trying to bite him, but my lips were in the way. No matter what I did, my attempts would not grant me success. I realized with gloves he would probably not feel my bite anyhow. He pulled me against him and I realized he was wearing some sort of metal protection. The rain panged against it as it fell.
"Please, I mean you no harm," his hot breath grazed the skin of my ear. I struggled his grip. "Peace!" he said more urgently. "I am going to release you, but please do not run. I beg a word with you, but let us seek the shelter of the trees." He paused, "Do you comply?"
I growled and struggled in his grip. His voice had been oddly soothing and had an odd accent I did not recognize. He was strong and I knew I would be no match for him if it came to strength, so I nodded, complying to his wishes.
His hand released my mouth hesitantly and I jerked away from him, but found my wrists still bound in his grip. He let go and I scrambled to my feet. I turned to look at him, his features still not visible in the pouring rain and darkness.
He held both hands up in friendship, "Peace." He took a step forward, picking up something from the ground then starting forward, but noticing me, staying rooted on the spot, he stopped. "Come," he reached for my arm.
"Don't touch me," I spat, stepping away. I wondered what he'd do if I ran. Surely he could over take me if he wished.
"I see you do not trust me," he yelled over the rain. "Please, do not run. I will not chase you if you do, but I would just like a word...out of the rain!"
No matter what I chose to do, I would discover his honesty. But this man was making me curious and I, almost involuntarily, started walking to the trees. However, I did not stop when I entered, but walked to the very heart of the land.
Finally, I stopped, but did not turn. I heard his steps also cease a yard or so behind me.
"What do you want from me?" I asked quietly. Only the sound of heavy droplets of water could be heard from above our heads as I waited for him to answer me.
"Information," he replied simply.
I waited, but he said nothing else. "Well, ask already!" I said a bit too loudly. He appeared in front of me and I jumped in surprise.
"Forgive me, but where I come from it is courtesy to look at one another when conversing.
I studied him, his hair wet and curly, reaching his shoulders. What looked like metal armor covered his shoulders. I took a step back. "Where do you come from?"
"Mina Tirith."
I froze. "Gondor?"
"Yes."
"The White City of Stone in Gondor?"
"Yes."
"Who do you think I am?" I asked, raising my voice.
"I—" he started, confused.
"You expect me to believe you're from Middle-earth? Who are you?"
"Faramir, Captain of Gondor, youngest son of Denethor, Steward of the White City, brother of Boromir...I was somehow separated from my Calvary and I cannot explain why I am here. I wish you to tell me where I have found myself."
"Captain Faramir?" I asked, unbelievingly.
"Please, I need to return to my men...I am...wounded." By the way he said it, it was like he was in denial.
"Wounded?" I asked, thinking he was making this up. "Look, sir, I think—" I stopped in mid-sentence when he fell to his knees.
I thought for a moment then knelt in front of him, touching the wound he clutched on his shoulders. He hissed and my fingers drew away with blood.
"What happened?"
"Arrow...orc arrow."
"Look, I don't know who you are—"
"Fara—"
"—but I'll help you, because by the looks of it, your not doing so well." He nodded. "Let's get you out of this stuff."
Somehow, I helped him struggle out of his armor and I placed it under a tree, covering the pieces with leaves. He objected to the idea of leaving his possessions there.
"Virtually no one comes around here and after we get you fixed, we'll come back for it." I put his uninjured arm, around my shoulder and slowly we started forward. I talked to him as we walked and the more time that passed, the more wanted to believe him.
"His horn washed up on the bank, not a week past, cloven in two." His legs gave out on him, catching me off guard, and sent us both to the ground. "I am not the heir to the stewardship. Rumor is Isildur's heir has returned...not all is lost..."
"Come on, Faramir. We can still make it. Your wound is not fatal unless by loss of blood. If we hurry, we can get you to a---uh...a healer."
"Poison...orcs tip...arrows."
I felt his forehead and he was burning with fever. 'Shit, why didn't I think of that?' "Hang in there, Faramir. Just stay awake. Don't go into the shadow. Faramir!" I shook him. No answer.
Desperately, I felt for his pulse. A soft thump resounded under my fingers and I sighed in relief. It was there, but extremely faint. I laid him on his back and stared at his face, covered in the shadow of the night. What could I do—leave him here to get help? Never.
Tears ran down my face, mixing with the rain. Why was this happening? This wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to go to Middle-earth, fight in amazing battles, and fall in love with a breathtakingly beautiful warrior. Why didn't anything happen the way it was supposed to? Instead, my wish comes true by me finding Faramir near death. Surely this could change the entire fate of Middle-earth.
"Please, Faramir, don't leave me. Don't leave m in this cruel world alone...I'm sorry."
Suddenly, I remembered my cell phone in my pocket. With shaking hands, I quickly got it out and turned it on. It seemed to take eternity to boot up. Then, after reading the screen, I angrily screamed and threw the phone with all my might. No service, my butt!
I looked at the man beside me and gripped his hand. I wanted him to be Prince of Ithilien with all my heart. I didn't believe him, I wanted to believe him.
.
I don't know when or how I fell asleep, but I must have, for in a blink of my eyes it was noon and not a cloud was seen in the sky, which was odd for how much it rained just a few hours earlier. Was this a dream?
I looked at the man. He was beautiful—long blonde-brown curls to his broad shoulders, a short beard and mustache...however, he was deathly pale. I checked his forehead for fever, but instead he was ice-cold. My fingers traced down his face to his neck. No pulse. Tears welled in my eyes. He was dead.
I got up and looked at him. He was in his armor again, but I didn't really think about it. I just started dragging him a few yards away where a large hole was in the ground. It should have been odd that there was a hole eight feet long, four feet wide, six feet deep in the middle of the park, but I didn't really think about it—in fact I didn't really think about anything. It was like in those dreams where you don't know why you do things; you just know you're supposed to. I pushed him in. The problem was, his hand was gripping mine and I panicked, trying to get it loose, but he was falling and my efforts were unsuccessful. Momentum carried him down and me with him, headfirst into darkness.
.
I woke with a shudder and sat up. My head whirled, causing me to close my eyes again. It was all a dream—finding Faramir, his death everything—I thought with a sigh. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed about the fact. I just accepted it and opened my eyes to start another normal day.
.
A/N: Well, that about wraps it up! I may keep this a single chapter fic or post what I have also written depending on reviews...even though I like what I have written. Please review and let me know what you think. This will not be a Mary-Sue and from what I have brainstormed, a single-sided romance for the time being. Please review.