Faramir had parted from his father, half-brother, and the Rangers of the Dúnedain one week previously. In his brother's keeping, he left his bracers and insisted that they be worn. From the first time they had practiced together, Faramir never relented in chiding Boromir whenever he neglected that vital piece of armament. Boromir had started to insist that Faramir promise to watch after himself but Faramir flatly refused to make that promise to one more person. He was more than capable of looking out for himself, and he was also determined to get a promise out of someone else this time around. So it was that Boromir swore to him that he would not only take care of himself on the quest, but his father also, for Faramir knew all too well the kind of risks his father usually took.
From there the parting had been quick; all involved knew that drawn out partings helped no one. Boromir very nearly promised his little brother that they would all see each other once again, but he knew that soldier's did not make promises so far beyond their abilities. Aragorn, too, hoped for it, but his years in the world had taught him not to voice those things.
It had been strange, but there was no difficulty in getting through Dunland, as opposed to so many times before. Onward Faramir rode with his father's advice to remain south of the River Isen and to stay close to the White Mountains. The advice was not meant so much to help Faramir pass through Rohan undetected, as it was to keep him at a distance from Isengard. By missing the ford, Faramir avoided walking right into a clash between Dunlendings and Rohirrim.
He managed to get almost to Edoras before a company spotted him and had him encircled immediately. Their captain was young, younger than Faramir was by the look of it. It seemed that the welcomes of Rohan were growing less and less friendly with every passing day. This time Faramir wondered just what it would take him to get on with his journey this time. Usually all one had to do was consent to be led before the King, give your word that you are allied with the Free peoples and you were permitted passage. This time, though, when Faramir saw the King of Rohan his shock could not be concealed. Something was extremely wrong in the Mark in these days and Faramir wanted to be gone as quickly as possible.
The foul wretch who Faramir had described as a fell shadow on the King during his last visit ordered him held for questioning. Faramir knew better than to resist and was lead to a sparsely furnished "room" which looked more like a dressed prison cell. The door had not been locked, but there were guards posted at either end of the hallway, and windows were high and small. It was what passed for hospitality. Still, Faramir knew that he had no reason to attempt escape, for he was on the right side and had but one thing to hide, though surely that would not come into the questioning? At any rate, Faramir figured he could do with a bit of rest.
Faramir extinguished the lone tallow candle and was attempting to let himself get some rest, grateful that at least he did not have to sleep with one eye open this one night. It did not bother him much that apparently no one thought to feed him, he recognized that he was a latecomer and really had no expectations anyway. He'd gone nights without a supper before and would likely do it again.
He was staring up into the darkness, thinking about his father and Boromir, his daerada and the twins, when he heard footsteps out in the hallway. A woman carrying a bowl in one hand and a candle in the other nudged the door open. "I brought you supper," she said simply, setting the dish upon the small table and relighting the candle. As Faramir stood, the two flames illuminated him and the woman's cornflower blue gaze seemed to linger on his eyes for a few moments longer than necessary before she turned and hurried away.
Faramir called a "thank you" but she had already closed the door and gone. He looked out into the hallway to see her glancing back over her shoulder, wearing a worried and wary expression, as a child still afraid of what nightmarish creature lurks under the bed, and she hastily fled around the corner.
Unexpectedly, out of the shadows at the other end of the hallway, stepped the leech of a man, startling Faramir. "I do hope you managed to rest easy in your accommodations, my lord," Grima said sickeningly. "Your mount is saddled and your baggage loaded. Shall I escort you to the stables?"
Faramir refrained from saying something along the line that the stable boys would not appreciate more filth to clean. He had a suspicion that it was this vile thing which caused the fearful look and hurried steps of the lady who had brought him food. "I thought it was you who ordered that I remain here until questioned?" Faramir asked, cautious of this sudden change.
Grima thrust a piece of parchment at Faramir and said, "Well, the King has ordered you gone, immediately. And I would not try his patience, were I you," he added in a threatening hiss. Faramir could not help but think that when Grima spoke of the King, he was really referring to himself. Still, he did not argue. Though he did not have any rest, or a chance to eat what had been given him, he simply picked up the pack he carried with him and got out of Meduseld. He checked the packs on his horse and noted that they were all there, though his food supply was diminished markedly. "A tariff for convey," Grima said with a smile that challenged Faramir to do something about it. Faramir knew better, as Grima suspected he would, and merely glared daggers into the man known better as a worm.
Faramir mounted and trotted out of the stable. Though it was darkest night, he trusted his horse and started off slowly, letting them both get their bearings. Suddenly, Faramir's keen, well-trained ears caught the sounds of a struggle from behind him. From within the stable he clearly heard a hissing whisper, the distinct sound of a slap, and a growl followed by a muffled shout. Faramir jumped down and ran back to the stable where he saw the worm attempting to corner a woman, the woman who had brought him food. Grima caught sight of Faramir, though, and ran out of the other end of the stables, back to the hall with more speed than it looked like he possessed, no doubt to argue that he had been in Meduseld the whole time and to accuse Faramir in his place. Torn between running after the lecher and helping the woman, Faramir's compassion won out and he went to the lady.
Her reaction was wholly unexpected though. Instead of a thank you, she slapped him as well. Faramir just stood there for a moment with his mouth gaping. "What was that for? I was trying to help -"
"Of course you were, because you thought that I could not defend myself! I do not need men like you protecting me," she said, giving him a rough shove.
"That snake had you cornered!" Faramir said, utterly flabbergasted.
"Get away from me!" she shouted. "I can fight for myself and unless you want to learn just what I can do with a blade, you had better leave, now!"
"Wait, I think I remember you. You were just a child, fighting with your brother?" Faramir said, remembering the first time he'd been in Edoras, or at least the first time he had memory of.
"I thought I said leave!" the woman said, now looking around for something she could use as a weapon.
"Oh, I would like nothing better," Faramir conceded, backing slowly away as not to upset the furious filly any further. Getting back to his own horse, he left Edoras with the hope that he would not be required to return any time soon.
Faramir got through the Eastfold, stopped only once by the same captain who had stopped him on the way in. He showed the order from the King and was let through. Faramir was grateful as never before when he crossed the Mering Stream into Gondor. For as dark as Gondor was growing these days, at least he was not immediately set upon. Faramir rode to the small village where he'd met Damrod and Mablung 15 years earlier, hoping to make up for the rest and food he'd been shorted in Edoras. As he walked through the small settlement, there was a feeling that he did not enjoy. It was a cold, late evening in a time of harvest, but there were no warm fires glowing inside anyone's houses. Faramir knocked at Indis's door. For a long moment, there was no sound inside, as though someone was purposely trying to be silent. Faramir caught movement at the window and a moment later the door was opened very slightly.
"Who are you?" whispered a tense voice.
"Faramir, Damrod's companion," he answered.
The trembling woman ushered in Faramir quickly. "The Rangers have gone after them?" she asked.
"Gone after whom, my lady?" Faramir asked, putting an arm around Indis to calm her.
"Goblins, orcs, I do not know what they were!" she wept. "I thought they would burn everything to the ground, but they did not. They came through here as if they were looking for someone, or something. They killed everyone they laid eyes on… Malantur…."
Faramir held the elder woman, speaking in soft tones as his grandfather did when someone was deeply troubled. "Sidh, hiril-nín, im nev." When morning rose, Faramir saw the extent of what Indis meant. Huge orc-like carcasses lay in the road as well as the bodies of men, women, and children alike. It was expected that the orcs would burn the village, that was what they usually did, and so people ran out of their homes to escape, only to be slaughtered as they ran. The scene was even more chilling to Faramir than the dark, looming figure that had put such fright into the soldiers who defended Osgiliath at the battle earlier that year.
It did not look as though anyone but Indis had survived, but Faramir checked them all to no avail. Faramir wished there had been time and enough help to bury the dead, or at least cremate them, but it could not be done. He also wished he could have escorted Indis to Minas Tirith, but that also was out of the question. Instead, he gave Indis his horse, collected what supplies he could, and found a suitable weapon so she could protect herself. She would have to get to the White City on her own, Faramir knew it was too perilous for him to go there, but she was a smart, resourceful woman, and he was sure that she could make it. He himself now needed to get to Henneth Annun a little quicker than before, and he would be doing it on foot.
Indis had an easier time of her journey than Faramir did. She was fortunate enough to run into a troop coming from Dol Amroth, led by Imrahil, who not only escorted her into the city, but helped her to find suitable accommodations, a rare thing in Minas Tirith at that time. Imrahil's men also escorted Lady Mithrellas, who had come to the city not only for the protection it offered, but also to offer her services in the Houses of Healing, over the years having become skilled in medicinal arts. Among the Swan Knights now rode Eldor, having finally accepted Imrahil's commission a year after his secret beloved's untimely death.
Faramir, on the other hand, made it to the western shore of the Anduin two days after leaving Indis. He was near Cair Andros, in the light of the full moon he could see the island downstream as the water broke against the rocks, but Faramir had to wonder if it was wise to go there first. In the end, though, his only choices were stopping at Cair Andros or attempting to swim across the river, not truly an option in what Faramir guessed was late December or the beginning of the new year.
As it turned out, his only real choice wasn't so unpleasant after all. He finally had a decent, hot meal and a sound night's rest, and no one seemed to think it at all odd that he had not been with his men, but with Captain Boromir on a "special mission" for the past six months. From there, Faramir went on to Ithilien feeling at least a little bit renewed. Faramir was in sight of Henneth Annun, at long last, when he started asking questions that had not occurred to him till then. He knew his men would have just recently returned to their outpost, but under the command of whom? Though loyalty was the ultimate priority to his Rangers, what was to say that they would accept his being away as easily as the men at Cair Andros did? He did not tell anyone of his departure when he quit the service of the Steward, and though he did not officially resign his post, Denethor likely would have replaced him immediately.
Faramir went cautiously then, his hood shrouding him. So as not to be taken for an intruder, Faramir walked south of the cave's obscured entranced and whistled the call of the crow, the universal language among Rangers meaning that a friend was approaching. He had to smile as he saw several men appear at concealed stations, only one of their own would have known to look for them and likely no one else would have been able to spot them. He moved unhurriedly toward the cave, knowing that his Rangers were watching his every move intently. A masked guard moved from behind a tall rock that stood beside the waterfall and Faramir spoke the password in a whisper, "arandur."
The guard nodded and Faramir stepped behind the waterfall and passed down the narrow tunnel. He could hear the footsteps of several coming along behind him, but he did not remove his cloak until he was in the main chamber of the caverns. All at once, every man who was there at the time said, "Captain Faramir!"
"If you can still call me that, aye," was Faramir's response.
Mablung walked up to Faramir, clasped his shoulders a little tighter than necessary, and stared directly into his eyes. "If you think any man here would call another man his captain in your presence, then leave, for I was raised to turn out scoundrels."
Faramir chuckled and embraced his friend. Suddenly, the memory of what had happened at the village by the river mouth came back to him. Faramir turned, looking for Damrod, and asked his two companions to speak with him privately. There he explained that on his road back he'd stopped to rest in the village and told them of what had happened. He told Damrod that he'd given his mother his horse, supplied, and a weapon and that she had gone on to Minas Tirith alone, for none else survived. A hundred times it seemed that Faramir had borne the same grim duty to families of his men, never had it been so hard as this though, now he was telling one of his men that his family was gone.
"Who did it?" Mablung asked in a broken voice that did not fit such a big, hearty man.
"I wish I could say for certain," Faramir said, his voice soft in compassion. "The carcasses I found, I would call them orcs, but that they were much bigger, more man-like in a way. They did not bear the mark of Sauron, though, and I am not certain what it may mean. The only mark I could discern was an "S" rune, and I have my suspicions."
For a long while thereafter, Faramir simply sat in silence with Mablung, offering his understanding support. It was a luxury he afforded a close friend with the knowledge that much more of this sort of thing was coming to them, quickly, and he would not physically be able to support everyone who would lose a loved one. Moreover, Faramir knew well that it was all too real a possibility that he could find himself the one in need of support too; either that or his own family would.
ooo
I'd take it no one objects to the long chapter this time? I have been taking into consideration just how many of you would like me to let Boromir live. My regular readers know that nothing is ever just that simple when i am at the pen though :) More will be made "clear" about that soon.
linda: I definitely want to make use of your PB, i think it is really worthy of exploration. One of these days i will get around to it.
Elenhin: I have a soft spot for duckies and such things, and i thought it just fit the scene well. I think Duck-duck may well make an appearence in a one-shot at some point. Of course, i want Boromir to live too. I've never written a version of the Amon Hen scene before, but considering how Boromir has pretty much gotten his way in everything else i've written, he probably will now too. For better or worse.