Hopefully people reading this aren't too confused. It will all come together eventually, I promise.
Summary: Faramir accidentally discovers the underground world of Minas Tirith that none knew to exist and becomes more submerged in the affairs than he would like to be.
CHAPTER 3
First Glimpse
After Faramir had said goodbye to his comrades, the only thought that consumed his mind was lying in a cold bath. However, between his departure from the tavern and his arrival at his temporary room in The King's House, Faramir had decided that a soak in a hot bath was just what he needed after enduring the crisp night.
As the servants prepared his bath, Faramir pondered the events that had taken place at The Red Horse that night. He knew the people of Gondor respected him, and he knew his military needs were well appreciated. But, never had he seen someone act like that around him. And the young man's reaction to the mention of his king left much to be desired. 'As if there is no respect for his leader,' Faramir thought to himself, 'or as if he doesn't acknowledge the king's return. Surely, the people should be happy to be released from the reign of the stewards. Heavens know my predecessor was far from an ideal ruler.'
Having learned long ago to trust his instincts, Faramir knew there was more to what he had witnessed that night. No one would be stupid enough to express their dislike for the king in front of the steward unless they knew they were protected. Unless the declaration was some sort of distraction, or merely a way to get the stewards attention
"Your bath is ready my lord."
Dismissing the servant with a nod of his head, Faramir began to undress, welcoming the distraction a hot bath also brought. 'Perhaps I am over-thinking the issue. The downfall of the Dark Lord and the coming of The King are still current events. The people will soon become accustomed to the routine and find they enjoy it.' With these reassuring thoughts in mind, Faramir's eyes widened in shock as he reached for his ring of office. 'It's missing?'
Within a matter of minutes, Faramir's room was turned upside-down. Pocket's were torn inside out, boots were shaken, blankets were ripped off the bed, vases from Harad carelessly rolled across the floor, books of elvish lore were shoved off table tops, and still Faramir could not find his ring. Slumping beside his bed, the newly appointed Steward of Gondor used all his willpower to keep his tears at bay.
'How could I have been so careless? I have lost my ring of office. Anyone could have it, jeopardizing the security of Gondor itself! I have fought in the greatest battle of my time, leading men on seemingly suicide missions, I have taken up a duty that was never meant for me, and I have held my own against Rohan's King while asking for his sister's hand in marriage, yet I cannot keep track of one blasted ring!'
'I'll just think back to everything I did this day.' After repeating every event of his day in as much detail as possible, Faramir could not restrain himself from slamming his fist into the nearest pillow. 'That man at The Red Horse, he stole it!'
"My lord, your bath has grown co--oh my! I shall fetch the maids at once."
"There is no need, I think I can manage cleaning my own room once in awhile," the steward offered a half smile to the distract servant. It was an old joke that the sons of the late Denethor could not take care of themselves for one day. When Faramir was seven, Boromir had overheard the servants complaining about the mess the boys left wherever they went. After relaying the conversation to his brother, Boromir decided that this kind of disrespect would not be tolerated. The two came to the agreement that they would be as destructive as possible without evoking their father's anger. For years, the staff never suspected the lads were creating the mess on purpose. Once the plot was uncovered though, the staff could not help but smile a little every time something out of place happened. Even after the two had grown and joined the army, they always found time to leave a little mess and destruction after their visits to the citadel.
The servant returned Faramir's smile, recognizing his presence was not needed nor wanted. "I shall leave you to your thoughts then, my lord?" After receiving a nod from the Steward, the man turned to leave.
"The dogs haven't been bathed in awhile, and I do not think the king appreciates such lack of attentiveness on the part of his staff."
As the servant closed the doors he replied, "I shall see to that, my lord Steward."
Faramir leaned back against the bed with closed eyes and listened to the servant's footsteps fade out as the man walked further away. Soon after, the sound of two men could be heard walking towards the bathing chamber, followed by their muttering as they, at Faramir's guess, moved the tube of water to a place more suitable for the dogs. Only after there was complete silence in the hall did Faramir return to his dilemma.
'I do not know who the man was, and I cannot simply barge into the tavern and expect the bartender to remember everyone who happened to walk through the door. I can only hope he is a regular visitor, preferably late at night, seeing as that is the only time I will be able to leave. The royal couple must not know of my error.'
Pulling himself up, Faramir tried to put these depressing thoughts out of his mind, and focus on rearranging his room. Thinking back, Faramir could not remember the last time he had had to clean up after one of his destructive rampages. Suddenly the steward had a newfound respect for his, or rather now the king's, staff.
xxxx
"You can't go back on the deal now, I have the ring. Just pore the wax and sign the document."
In a dimly lit corner of The Red Horse's cellar sat two people. The night was crisp and the cellar air was cold, but the two individuals kept their hoods up for a different reason. Neither knew each other, and neither wished to either. Because neither of the two knew what they were doing, but both knew it was a highly illegal activity they were taking part in. The two figures didn't move, and the candle was starting to burn low.
"Quit hesitating. I'm runnin' the same risks you are here. I will not allow my family to be put in danger due to your second thoughts." A knife was pulled from the speakers boots and glistened threateningly in the flickering candle light. The second individual could make out a faint bloodstain on the blade.
Sighing, the second man reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a piece of parchment. An ink well and quill was pushed toward him. 'I am doing this for my family,' he told himself as ink dripped onto the paper. 'My son needs to eat, my daughter should be marrying instead of wasting the day away working, and my wife…' The quill glided across the parchment easily, creating an elegant, important, and official touch to the signature. 'I need to find a way to ease my wife's pains. I fear she'll leave me and our children soon if I don't do something.' Hot wax was poured next to the signature and the ring was pressed into it, completing the forgery of the steward's signature.
Quickly the two left the inn, exiting through different doors once out of the cellar. The paper was left on the table. The paper sat there until a nearby candle was nearly extinguished, when a young girl came down into the cellar with a candle of her own and retrieved the fake document. The girl then proceeded out of the cellar and to the second floor of the tavern, where she slipped the document under the door of a room, room number twenty-one. Blowing out the candle, the girl ran down the stairs and to her quarters near the kitchen as quietly as possible. She knew that once she got their, a small purse of coins would be on her pillow.
TBC…
So I hope this chapter was a little more exciting to read. Events from last chapter might make a little more sense now. Thanks to all those who have reviewed so far! I wish more people would do it… : wink wink :
