Seeing as I have a bit of a creative problem with the second half of this chapter, I'll give you this chappie in two parts.
skahducky: Glad you're still with me :)
Mirrowa: Thanks for the invite, I'll come and see when I have a little more time at hands
Jessie-kins: Yes, I do have a tendency for long paragraphs g I kinda get carried away sometimes :)
rindjanie: g I like him better alive as well :) Thanks for the compliment!
There was one other person who reviewed, but I can't find his/her name at the moment. You are thanked all the same, and here it is: Faramir's meeting with his brother's savior!
Chapter 12 (a): A most welcome visitor
--------------------------------------
The early-morning sun hit his eyes as he opened them, blinding him with the force of her splendor. Groaning, Faramir shut them again, seeing wild jags of gold and red behind his eyelids. After they had slowly cleared up, he opened them again, only slits this time, to avoid the same problem he had encountered minutes earlier. The ceiling came into focus, and for a moment he wondered where he was, since it was obvious to him that this wasn't his own room in Minas Tirith, nor the ceiling of Henneth Annun.
Cautiously he turned his head to the side somewhat and finally recognized the chamber. It was one of the rooms in the Houses of Healing.
With a sigh he let his head back down, only to jerk it back up as a light voice addressed him from his side.
"You awaken at last! How do you feel, my Lord? Do you wish for me to fetch one of the Healers?"
Tilting his head sideways, so as to be able to look on his visitor, Faramir gasped as he saw the Elf that was sitting in a chair, leaning forward slightly to check on him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not finding any words to speak. 'Ai, you fool' he scolded himself within his own thoughts, 'your one chance to speak to one of the Fair Folk, and your tongue and wit abandons you!'
Legolas, meanwhile, frowned a little in concern. The Human seemed unable to speak, and he knew too little of their race to know if Boromir's brother was in need of assistance or no. Deciding to take the certain before the uncertain, he stood and moved towards the door, intent on finding one of the assistents to tell them Lord Faramir had awakened. Surely they would know what to do. He stopped at the door, reaching for the handle and addressed his charge, turning to face him: "I will fetch someone to have a look at you. Please do not move too much in the meantime, for I fear your brother would have my hide if I allowed any evil to befall you." And with that he opened the door and disappeared through it.
Faramir groaned miserably. 'Congratulations! He is gone now, and no doubt will not want to be in the company of one so rude as to just stare at him without even an explanation.' He tried to lift himself slightly, but found that he could not make it into a sitting position. 'I will just have to lie here as he said.' He thought, feeling throughly miserable. Many questions flowed around in his mind. What had become of his Rangers? What of the city itself? It had not entirely fallen, otherwise he would not be lying here, but maybe part of it was in the Enemies hand. And what of his father? The Elf had mentioned Boromir, but not Denethor. And an Elf! How did he get here?
The door to his room opened again, and he looked up, half-hoping it would be the Firstborn, but alas, it was only an assistant. The young man smiled at him shyly, before he came closer.
"It is good to see you awake, my Lord!" he exclaimed, the smile on his face stretching. "We were all very concerned about you." He moved around the bed, helping his patient to sit up against the headboard while he swiftly examined the wounds. "They are coming along nicely, my Lord. But then again, you were healed by the King himself."
"The King!" Faramir whipped his head around to look the assistant straight in the eyes, "Gondor's King?"
The poor assistant blushed bright red and averted his eyes, knowing well the rumor that said the youngest of the sons of the former Steward could read ones mind. "Forgive me," he mumbled softly, "it is not my place to speak about such things. You should speak to your brother about this. I will leave you to rest some more, my Lord." And with a slight bow, the throughly flustered youth scurried out of the room quickly, not giving Faramir any time to intervene.
Still resting his back in the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, Faramir took the time to turn this new piece of information around in his mind. 'The King ... so the line is finally restored. Whoever he is, could not have picked a better moment. The people will need a strong leader to guide them through this and father has behaved rather strangely since we thought Boromir had been killed.' He frowned as a new idea took form. 'Poor father! He will never have a son rule Minas Tirith now. Ai, what a mighty stroke to bring against him. But at least he still has Boromir to comfort him.'
"I hope you are hungry."
Faramir's head jerked back towards the door at those words. As a ranger, he should have heard the steps of his visitor, alertness had been his strongest asset for survivel in Ithilien. However, as he saw the Elf that stood in the doorway with a tray of food, he knew he could not have heard him. The stealth of these beings was the stuff of legend.
His golden visitor shook his head gently, smiling. "They would not let me go without this."
Faramir felt a smile tugging at his own lips. It changed into a chuckle as his stomach informed him that he could indeed use the food. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping, or how long he had been unconscious before his Healing. "I guess it is good that they insisted, since I seem to indeed be hungry."
This, in turn, earned him a smile from his visitor. The Elf came alongside the bed and put the tray down in Faramir's lap, giving him the spoon he had been carrying.
The Man accepted them gratefuly, then reached his free hand out to introduce himself. "I am Faramir, son of the Steward Denethor. Might I have the pleasure of knowing my visitor's name?"
The Elf cocked his head slightly, regarding the outstreched appendage with slight curiosity, until he remembered this costum of Men. He smiled again, and shook the proffered hand. "Well met, my Lord Faramir. I am Legolas of the Mirkwood Realm." Retaking his seat beside the bed, he watched his friend's brother eat.
Faramir was exactly like Boromir had described him: intelligent, kind and brooding. The Elf had not missed the thoughtfull frown on the young man's face as he had re-entered with the food tray. 'He will start asking questions about the events leading to his Healing pretty soon. And I will have to be carefull in my answers, lest he deduces more from my words than what I wish to let him know.' Boromir had asked him not to mention their father's mental desillusions yet, and Legolas had to agree with his reasoning. Faramir was still too weakened to deal with all of this. Best his own brother tell him when he was back to his duties, or had something else to distract him.
He was aware of the furtive glances the Human cast him when he thought Legolas could not see them. 'Ai, he seems to think I will disappear in thin air in front of him!' the Elf thought with amusement. He watched silently as the younger of Denethor's sons ate the soup that he had provided for him. He had felt a strange protectiveness as he had sat beside the bed, watching Faramir sleep. 'Maybe it is because Boromir told so many tales about his brother, that I feel I have already known him for a long time. And he is a lot younger than I am.'
They sat in silence until Faramir had finished his soup. The young man's stomach would still be pretty uneasy, so the Healers had decided to give him only this in the beginning to get him back to full strength. Legolas watched as his charge contemplated what to do with the tray. The Elf quickly took it and placed it on the table that stood behind him.
"Boromir asked me to keep watch over you until you awoke." the Elf started the conversation. "He also wanted me to convey his pardon that he could not be with you now, but he has been called to attend a council with the other leaders of the West."
Faramir nodded slowly, digesting this information. He again felt that rush of warmth going through him at the renewed knowledge that his brother was still among the living. The reason for that could undoubtedly wait, there were a few more pressing questions at the moment. Deciding to jump straight into the deep, he turned his head towards the fair being beside his bed. "Will the King be present in this council?"
Legolas didn't let his mask of calm aloofness slip. 'This boy is fast!' he thought admiringly. Out loud he only said: "Indeed, he will be."
"And my father, will he be there as well."
'Aiya! That question I did not need!' Instead of answering immediately, Legolas took his some time to study theyoung mortal in front of him. How much of the truth could he impart? He could not lie about the fact that the Steward of Gondor had found his untimely death during this war, but he could slightly play with the facts concerning his manner of passing. Not wanting to make the Human nervous with too long a silence, Legolas leaned forward a little, resting his underarms on his thighs.
"No, the Lord Denethor will not be there." he gave a small sigh, "I am sorry to tell you this Faramir, but your father perished in the battle, trying to protect you." Not the entire truth perhaps, but close enough. Lord Denethor had seen them as enemies in the end, for trying to take away his youngest. Better that Faramir knew his father had loved him in the end, than to know the full tale of the Stewards madness.
Another long silence stretched between them although it was not an unpleasant one. Faramir's hands were busily playing with the sheet that covered him as he digested the information.
'Dead, my father is dead.' somehow this statement seemed even more unreal than the idea that his brother had died somewhere on a far off battlefield. Loving or no, Denethor had been a constant in Faramir's life. The respected and even somewhat feared father that he would do anything for. The one for whose love and respect he had fought his entire life. And now that person was dead, and what was more, he had died defending him, his youngest and most unwanted son. 'He loved me in the end.' the realisation sent another thrill of warmth through his body, and he felt strangely at peace. That what he had fought for so long, had been achieved.
'But there is something he doesn't tell me.' the young man thought, casting a short sideways glance at the Elf. 'He would not lie, but would he tell the whole truth?' This was a question he could not answer, for he knew not enough off the person he was contemplating to make any accurate guess. 'I will have to ask Boromir when I see him next.' he could trust his brother to tell him the truth, no matter how bad it would be.
"You have travelled with my brother?" he asked and smiled when the Legolas nodded. "I thought so, Frodo and Sam mentioned you."
That got an interesting reaction. Legolas arched his eyebrows, and the look he gave Faramir turned nearly uncomfortably intense. "You have talked to Frodo and Sam of the Shire."
"I have. My company ran into them in Ithilien." Noticing the Elf's unease he quickly continued. "Do not worry, I did not take it from them. They were set free to continue their journey." Legolas nodded and remained deep in thought for some time, until Faramir tired from the silence. "Come, my friend, tell me about the journey you made with my brother."
And so they whiled away the day, Legolas only stopping once in his tale, to fetch Faramir some more to eat. When the evening was nearing, the Elf's tale had reached the point where they stood upon the Fields of Pelennor. Faramir had listened intently all the time, sometimes asking a question about this or that. He had heard the first part of the tale from the Hobbits of course, but he found the rising and falling rythem of Legolas' voice soothing.
Of a sudden the Elf stopped talking, turning his head towards the door. As it opened a moment later, it revealed Boromir, whose face lighted up when he caught sight of his brother.
----------------------------
I'm hoping to get the other part of this chapter out soon. Boromir and his brother really need to talk :)
Anyway: hope you enjoyed! Review please? g
skahducky: Glad you're still with me :)
Mirrowa: Thanks for the invite, I'll come and see when I have a little more time at hands
Jessie-kins: Yes, I do have a tendency for long paragraphs g I kinda get carried away sometimes :)
rindjanie: g I like him better alive as well :) Thanks for the compliment!
There was one other person who reviewed, but I can't find his/her name at the moment. You are thanked all the same, and here it is: Faramir's meeting with his brother's savior!
Chapter 12 (a): A most welcome visitor
--------------------------------------
The early-morning sun hit his eyes as he opened them, blinding him with the force of her splendor. Groaning, Faramir shut them again, seeing wild jags of gold and red behind his eyelids. After they had slowly cleared up, he opened them again, only slits this time, to avoid the same problem he had encountered minutes earlier. The ceiling came into focus, and for a moment he wondered where he was, since it was obvious to him that this wasn't his own room in Minas Tirith, nor the ceiling of Henneth Annun.
Cautiously he turned his head to the side somewhat and finally recognized the chamber. It was one of the rooms in the Houses of Healing.
With a sigh he let his head back down, only to jerk it back up as a light voice addressed him from his side.
"You awaken at last! How do you feel, my Lord? Do you wish for me to fetch one of the Healers?"
Tilting his head sideways, so as to be able to look on his visitor, Faramir gasped as he saw the Elf that was sitting in a chair, leaning forward slightly to check on him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not finding any words to speak. 'Ai, you fool' he scolded himself within his own thoughts, 'your one chance to speak to one of the Fair Folk, and your tongue and wit abandons you!'
Legolas, meanwhile, frowned a little in concern. The Human seemed unable to speak, and he knew too little of their race to know if Boromir's brother was in need of assistance or no. Deciding to take the certain before the uncertain, he stood and moved towards the door, intent on finding one of the assistents to tell them Lord Faramir had awakened. Surely they would know what to do. He stopped at the door, reaching for the handle and addressed his charge, turning to face him: "I will fetch someone to have a look at you. Please do not move too much in the meantime, for I fear your brother would have my hide if I allowed any evil to befall you." And with that he opened the door and disappeared through it.
Faramir groaned miserably. 'Congratulations! He is gone now, and no doubt will not want to be in the company of one so rude as to just stare at him without even an explanation.' He tried to lift himself slightly, but found that he could not make it into a sitting position. 'I will just have to lie here as he said.' He thought, feeling throughly miserable. Many questions flowed around in his mind. What had become of his Rangers? What of the city itself? It had not entirely fallen, otherwise he would not be lying here, but maybe part of it was in the Enemies hand. And what of his father? The Elf had mentioned Boromir, but not Denethor. And an Elf! How did he get here?
The door to his room opened again, and he looked up, half-hoping it would be the Firstborn, but alas, it was only an assistant. The young man smiled at him shyly, before he came closer.
"It is good to see you awake, my Lord!" he exclaimed, the smile on his face stretching. "We were all very concerned about you." He moved around the bed, helping his patient to sit up against the headboard while he swiftly examined the wounds. "They are coming along nicely, my Lord. But then again, you were healed by the King himself."
"The King!" Faramir whipped his head around to look the assistant straight in the eyes, "Gondor's King?"
The poor assistant blushed bright red and averted his eyes, knowing well the rumor that said the youngest of the sons of the former Steward could read ones mind. "Forgive me," he mumbled softly, "it is not my place to speak about such things. You should speak to your brother about this. I will leave you to rest some more, my Lord." And with a slight bow, the throughly flustered youth scurried out of the room quickly, not giving Faramir any time to intervene.
Still resting his back in the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, Faramir took the time to turn this new piece of information around in his mind. 'The King ... so the line is finally restored. Whoever he is, could not have picked a better moment. The people will need a strong leader to guide them through this and father has behaved rather strangely since we thought Boromir had been killed.' He frowned as a new idea took form. 'Poor father! He will never have a son rule Minas Tirith now. Ai, what a mighty stroke to bring against him. But at least he still has Boromir to comfort him.'
"I hope you are hungry."
Faramir's head jerked back towards the door at those words. As a ranger, he should have heard the steps of his visitor, alertness had been his strongest asset for survivel in Ithilien. However, as he saw the Elf that stood in the doorway with a tray of food, he knew he could not have heard him. The stealth of these beings was the stuff of legend.
His golden visitor shook his head gently, smiling. "They would not let me go without this."
Faramir felt a smile tugging at his own lips. It changed into a chuckle as his stomach informed him that he could indeed use the food. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping, or how long he had been unconscious before his Healing. "I guess it is good that they insisted, since I seem to indeed be hungry."
This, in turn, earned him a smile from his visitor. The Elf came alongside the bed and put the tray down in Faramir's lap, giving him the spoon he had been carrying.
The Man accepted them gratefuly, then reached his free hand out to introduce himself. "I am Faramir, son of the Steward Denethor. Might I have the pleasure of knowing my visitor's name?"
The Elf cocked his head slightly, regarding the outstreched appendage with slight curiosity, until he remembered this costum of Men. He smiled again, and shook the proffered hand. "Well met, my Lord Faramir. I am Legolas of the Mirkwood Realm." Retaking his seat beside the bed, he watched his friend's brother eat.
Faramir was exactly like Boromir had described him: intelligent, kind and brooding. The Elf had not missed the thoughtfull frown on the young man's face as he had re-entered with the food tray. 'He will start asking questions about the events leading to his Healing pretty soon. And I will have to be carefull in my answers, lest he deduces more from my words than what I wish to let him know.' Boromir had asked him not to mention their father's mental desillusions yet, and Legolas had to agree with his reasoning. Faramir was still too weakened to deal with all of this. Best his own brother tell him when he was back to his duties, or had something else to distract him.
He was aware of the furtive glances the Human cast him when he thought Legolas could not see them. 'Ai, he seems to think I will disappear in thin air in front of him!' the Elf thought with amusement. He watched silently as the younger of Denethor's sons ate the soup that he had provided for him. He had felt a strange protectiveness as he had sat beside the bed, watching Faramir sleep. 'Maybe it is because Boromir told so many tales about his brother, that I feel I have already known him for a long time. And he is a lot younger than I am.'
They sat in silence until Faramir had finished his soup. The young man's stomach would still be pretty uneasy, so the Healers had decided to give him only this in the beginning to get him back to full strength. Legolas watched as his charge contemplated what to do with the tray. The Elf quickly took it and placed it on the table that stood behind him.
"Boromir asked me to keep watch over you until you awoke." the Elf started the conversation. "He also wanted me to convey his pardon that he could not be with you now, but he has been called to attend a council with the other leaders of the West."
Faramir nodded slowly, digesting this information. He again felt that rush of warmth going through him at the renewed knowledge that his brother was still among the living. The reason for that could undoubtedly wait, there were a few more pressing questions at the moment. Deciding to jump straight into the deep, he turned his head towards the fair being beside his bed. "Will the King be present in this council?"
Legolas didn't let his mask of calm aloofness slip. 'This boy is fast!' he thought admiringly. Out loud he only said: "Indeed, he will be."
"And my father, will he be there as well."
'Aiya! That question I did not need!' Instead of answering immediately, Legolas took his some time to study theyoung mortal in front of him. How much of the truth could he impart? He could not lie about the fact that the Steward of Gondor had found his untimely death during this war, but he could slightly play with the facts concerning his manner of passing. Not wanting to make the Human nervous with too long a silence, Legolas leaned forward a little, resting his underarms on his thighs.
"No, the Lord Denethor will not be there." he gave a small sigh, "I am sorry to tell you this Faramir, but your father perished in the battle, trying to protect you." Not the entire truth perhaps, but close enough. Lord Denethor had seen them as enemies in the end, for trying to take away his youngest. Better that Faramir knew his father had loved him in the end, than to know the full tale of the Stewards madness.
Another long silence stretched between them although it was not an unpleasant one. Faramir's hands were busily playing with the sheet that covered him as he digested the information.
'Dead, my father is dead.' somehow this statement seemed even more unreal than the idea that his brother had died somewhere on a far off battlefield. Loving or no, Denethor had been a constant in Faramir's life. The respected and even somewhat feared father that he would do anything for. The one for whose love and respect he had fought his entire life. And now that person was dead, and what was more, he had died defending him, his youngest and most unwanted son. 'He loved me in the end.' the realisation sent another thrill of warmth through his body, and he felt strangely at peace. That what he had fought for so long, had been achieved.
'But there is something he doesn't tell me.' the young man thought, casting a short sideways glance at the Elf. 'He would not lie, but would he tell the whole truth?' This was a question he could not answer, for he knew not enough off the person he was contemplating to make any accurate guess. 'I will have to ask Boromir when I see him next.' he could trust his brother to tell him the truth, no matter how bad it would be.
"You have travelled with my brother?" he asked and smiled when the Legolas nodded. "I thought so, Frodo and Sam mentioned you."
That got an interesting reaction. Legolas arched his eyebrows, and the look he gave Faramir turned nearly uncomfortably intense. "You have talked to Frodo and Sam of the Shire."
"I have. My company ran into them in Ithilien." Noticing the Elf's unease he quickly continued. "Do not worry, I did not take it from them. They were set free to continue their journey." Legolas nodded and remained deep in thought for some time, until Faramir tired from the silence. "Come, my friend, tell me about the journey you made with my brother."
And so they whiled away the day, Legolas only stopping once in his tale, to fetch Faramir some more to eat. When the evening was nearing, the Elf's tale had reached the point where they stood upon the Fields of Pelennor. Faramir had listened intently all the time, sometimes asking a question about this or that. He had heard the first part of the tale from the Hobbits of course, but he found the rising and falling rythem of Legolas' voice soothing.
Of a sudden the Elf stopped talking, turning his head towards the door. As it opened a moment later, it revealed Boromir, whose face lighted up when he caught sight of his brother.
----------------------------
I'm hoping to get the other part of this chapter out soon. Boromir and his brother really need to talk :)
Anyway: hope you enjoyed! Review please? g