A/N
Hey, y'all! This is my second chappie! I just want to let you know that I am thinking that I might do a sequel to this. But that is only if I you send enough reviews. I'll be the judge of that.
Disclaimer: check first chapter
Chapter Two: The Wound
The young boy peered cautiously into his father's rooms, eyes wide with fear. His father looked up from his work impatiently from within the room. He was sitting at his desk writing furiously, and the broken quills that littered the floor bore testimony to the man's fury. "Well boy, stop gawking like a village idiot and come in!"
The twelve years old hesitated, slight irritation marring his senses for a few moments. Why couldn't Denethor ever call him by his true name? It was always "boy", or "brat", anything but "Faramir", or, Valar forbid, "son"!
But his father's growl quickly broke him out of his thoughts, and he stumbled into the room, kneeling respectfully at his Steward's feet. "W…What is your wish, my l...l…lord?" Faramir stuttered, head bowed in defeat. He knew very well what his father wanted. He smelled alcohol on in the man's breath, and, if you glanced at the parchment that Denethor had written on, you would see that the letters were written in a haphazard scrawl.
"What is it that I wish? What is it that I wish! I wish that I did not have such a disgrace for a son! You will never measure up to your brother, Boromir, ever. Ever!"
Faramir knew that what his father said was true. No one could measure up to his beloved older brother. And even as the blows from his father's whip rained down upon his back, he couldn't help but love his father. Tears ran from Faramir's face. But they were tears of love, not hate. They were the tears of one who had lost all hope of a better life, and instead must accept the horror that was their world. And perhaps learn to love the horror. To love the hate.
Vaguely he wondered why he heard screaming…He woke from his sleep with a start when he realized that it was himself that had been screaming.
……………………………….
He tossed and turned in his bed, drifting in and out of delirium. Irrelative thoughts wafted through his fevered brain. But, on the times that he was fully in charge of his senses, phrases such as "You are worthless!" or "No one loves you!" went over and over in his mind.
With a sigh, he fell back into a restless sleep. Although, at the moment, he was in the Houses of Healing, he didn't doubt for a second that his father would soon order him out of his comfortable bed. As the people of Minas Tirith often said, there was no rest for the Steward's sons. And when he was out of bed, he would no doubt be once more subjected to his father's unkindness.
If only Boromir wasn't dead! Faramir cried out in his thoughts. Even though Boromir couldn't stop what Denethor did, he was still always there for his younger brother. Always there to comfort him. Always there to dry his tears.
……………………….
Faramir lay in his bed, curled up in a pitiful ball. He trembled, convulsing with unshed tears as his back pulsed steadily in pain. It was covered in welts from his last encounter with his father, and he was filled with mental as well as physical hurt.
He looked up as his bedroom door opened, revealing the twenty-year old face of Boromir. His smile, complete with growing facial hair, suddenly stiffened with alarm when he saw fifteen-year old Faramir sobbing silently into his sheets. "What is wrong, little brother?" He asked, moving swiftly to gather the younger man into his arms.
Boromir frowned as he heard Faramir wince when he touched his back. Whispering soothing reassurances, he gently pulled back his brother's shirt to reveal scars, both old and new, that covered the abused back. "Father has been at it again." Boromir murmured, so low that Faramir could hardly hear it. Struggling to control his anger, he went and fetched some medical balm to clean the nasty cuts. When he was done, he held Faramir close to him and sang an old Gondorian lullaby as his brother fell asleep:
Hush, hush, hush, my baby
Don't you shed a tear
Hush, hush, hush, my baby
No harm will come near
When the tempest strikes
And the lightning lights
And the stars fade away
Hush, hush, hush, my baby
I will always be here
……………………………
Tears streamed down Faramir's face. But you aren't here, brother! He thought. And harm has already come near!
A/N
Well that was a bit longer than the last chapter! Even (gasp) a bit more angsty! Go me! And review!
A/N/N
Poor Fara! I am evil! (bwahahaha!)
