Author's note: In my tale 'A Two Colour Chain Mail' I took up one thing that has been said about Boromir and Faramir. That between the brothers there were great love, and that Boromir protected Faramir. Well since Faramir also sought to protect Boromir, it made me think about just exactly how far would one brother go to keep the other safe. The answer I came up with is a bit to far, Faramir risked his own life. I then wrote'A Chain Mail of Two Colours' the same tale but told from Faramir's point of view. As I was asked to write more on the same subject, I began pondering just where the line went. The line between protecting ones brother, and risking ones life in vain. I base this on the thought about what would happen if one brother accidentaly crossed that line.
It will help to read 'A Two Colour Chain Mail' as well as 'A Chain Mail of Two Colours' before you read this.
Thank you all for taking the time to read this.
It has been noticed that my tales contains the occasional spelling error, or not so occasional at times. I am sorry about these, and I do try to avoid them. I simply am a perpetual spelling disaster. Please take no offence. Besides, it can be considered an act of kindness to support your local spelling disaster.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Ring, I only borrow parts of it and shall return them as soon as I am done. Completely undamaged, as I am certain it will be impossible to see where we glued the pieces back together.
The Oath That You Took
Faramir once swore to never sacrifice his own life for that of his brother. Yet he had also sworn to keep his brother safe. That oath he had sworn to their father, the Steward himself at an early age. It had been when he received his first real commission. Both oaths were heavy and neither could be broken.
Yet it was not easy to keep them, not even for a man of great honour such as himself. He would never go back on his word, but sometimes he was torn. For where exactly does the line between these two oaths run, and what if you cross it, even if you do not mean to.
"He shall be well in no time, do not fear." The soft words were spoken by Denethor and meant to comfort his son, who was utterly distressed.
"It is all my fault." The young man in his arms sobbed. "I did not keep him safe. Like I was supposed to"
"It was not your fault." Denethor told his son, twining the locks of fire coloured hair between his fingers in a gentle manner. Denethor was unsure whether his attempts at soothing his distraught son were working, but he continued trying to comfort his son. "Not in the least. We both know how stubborn he is when he wants to."
"T'was my duty to keep him safe." The young man sobbed, not calmed in the least just yet.
Denethor raised his chin with his hand to force him to meet his gaze. "Faramir, he ordered you to stay back, and you obeyed. You did nothing wrong. The order aside, it is not as bad as it looks. Most likely it shall not even lay him up." Denethor had seen the wound Boromir had taken to his thigh, and it truly was not bad. I had just bled a lot, frightening his younger brother badly.
Faramir was upset as he had seen him take it, yet being unable to help as his orders were to stay back. Denethor had come to see Boromir in the healers care, and had also seen Faramir awash with tears. He had been unable to halt the flow even as he had seen the Steward arrive, and had sought to leave to hide his shame. This time however Denethor had halted him with a gentle hand to his arm, and dragged out of him the words of what was wrong, and now he sought to comfort his youngest.
This time he would never think of holding his youngest at fault. It had been Boromir's recklessness if anything, and it prided him to know that his youngest strove so hard to care for the elder. Despite his relationship with his youngest son, he hoped with all his heart that he would never see the day when he had to lay one of his sons to rest. He honestly did not think he could lose either of them and not his sanity.
Was there anything worse than seeing ones brother, ones little brother, so still, pale and vulnerable. If there were, Boromir prayed he would never have to find out what it was.
Faramir was not moving, he was awake, his eyes were open, but they were not really focused one anything. He was lying limply in the bed, unmoving. Gods, he was so pale. His laboured breathing was the only sound that Boromir heard, and the shuddering breaths were what Boromir clung to. He had come so close to losing him.
The sword wound had been cleaned, cauterised and stitched closed. It was now neatly bound.
Boromir had stayed by his baby brother's side throughout the process, though he had gone as pale as snow when the wound was cauterised. Faramir had not been not been too fond of that part either. In fact he had screamed himself hoarse, until he fainted that was.
Faramir feared the hot iron with a passion so hot that one should be able to do all but cauterise the wound with it. He would be suffering nightmares from it for weeks to come because of it. Boromir knew that well enough from earlier experience from it.
Now Boromir sat brushing his sweat soaked hair away from Faramir's pale and clammy forehead with his fingertips. They swept across, over and back in a slow rhythmic motion that seemed to soothe his brother.
"That blade was meant for me, little one." He whispered. "You should have allowed me to take it."
Faramir blinked, and slowly he turned his eyes to look at Boromir, focusing on him, and not merely looking in the direction where he was.
"I could not." His voice was strange; thick, and horse, from the screaming and very unlike his usually calm and melodious voice. It sounded choked, as if he was just holding back the tears.
"I know." Boromir kept stroking the hair. "My little one, I know."
"Did I break the oath?" Faramir asked in that whisper of a voice. The oath he had sworn never to pay for Boromir's survival with his life. The oath he had sworn after he had near been killed, sacrificing his chain mail to mend Boromir's.
Faramir had stepped in when a Harad warrior had sought to strike Boromir in the back. Faramir had thrown himself between them in an attempt to save his brother and Commander from the cowardly attack. As he had not had time to raise his sword more than halfway, he had been unable to block the full strike. Yet the action had saved Boromir's life. Boromir would have been smitten had he not acted, and for Faramir it had been a near thing.
"You did not break it little brother." Boromir assured him, smiling with pride for his brother, pride that he could claim that brave selfless soldier as his. "You merely stretched it."
"Can one stretch an oath?" Faramir was still not fully coherent, and now he was confused as well.
"One can when one has such a brave little brother whom one is very proud of." Boromir assured him while still stroking his hair. "You are still true to your oath little one."
"Good." Faramir knew he was safe while Boromir was there, and knew that his brother would not go anywhere anytime soon. So he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
The End
Here I would like to thank everyone who left a review on my other tales. I can not thank you enough, but I do appreciate it. Thank you all very much.
Here it must also be said that in that tale we noted that Sean Bean and David Wenham made the perfect image of two brothers. We also got agreement on that.
So here it is, if you agree with us and think that they should be real brothers. Say so in your review. It shall be your vote. On my authors page, in the bio I shall keep score. When the score reaches 100, they shall be declared official brothers. Then on my authors page shall be an official declaration written by Elenhin and Celebrion.
Then the truth can not be denied, they shall be brothers.
Again thank you all for reading, and even more for reviewing.
/Elenhin
