Chapter: 25, "A Series of Small Entries"
Word Count: 2,656
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, this is purely a non-profit story based off of it.
Birthday Shoutout: Happy birthday to FandomFangirl100! Hope all goes well today!
Beforehand Notes: This was divided into five parts. Originally I was only doing "part one" and "part two" for the scenes where Faramir is talked down by Denethor, but then I thought about it, and it felt easily split into five pieces. Hence the title A Series of Small Entries. I added in the part about Boromir (found in part 5) because I feel really terrible about the way I portrayed him, and tried to make it up to him with this part. It also makes Faramir seem like he's going for the sake of his brother, rather than his father, which I like the idea of better.
I know that it's supposed to be "I saw them in Ithilien", not Osgiliath, but I got confused there, and thought it was taking them from Ithilien to Osgiliath, then releasing them. Stupid me. But in this version, they met Frodo and Sam in Ithilien, were taken to Osgiliath, and then were attacked by the nazgul in Osgiliath, releasing Frodo and Sam. Then some time after, they were attacked by orcs and nazgul, making Faramir and his companions retreat to Minas Tirith. And that brings us to the beginning of the story...
- A Series of Small Entries -
The beginning part of my stay in (or retreat to) Minas Tirith (before Faramir and his soldiers went off to die- I mean, to 'reclaim' Osgiliath) can be easily broken up into five parts. They could be separated our grouped differently, but it's almost like like a musical fantasia. It's divided into parts that would work just fine on their own, but it makes more sense when you put together. Besides, do you really want to have to read five poorly titled 500 word entries individually? I think not!
Part One: Retreat
"We can't hold them. The city is lost." Madril said.
"Tell the men to break cover. We ride for Minas Tirith." Faramir grimly said.
I was not fighting then. I was running, hiding, trying to make it to a safer place. Trying to get out of here.
A terrible screeching pierced the air once more. The nazgûl were back with their fellbeasts.
"Take cover! Nazgul! Fall back. Fall back to Minas Tirith!" Faramir shouted. Dallin pulled me against a wall (again), and we hurriedly made our way towards the horses. I see Madril fall, not dead, but not in any state to move… I knew his coming fate. Dallin kept pushing me onward.
"Fall back! Retreat! Retreat! Run for your lives!"
On our horses we flew towards the city of Minas Tirith, I watch as soldiers around me are picked up and dropped back down, presumably to their deaths.
Where are you, Gandalf?
My call was answered, and Gandalf rode out with his white light, driving away the nazgûl and their pets. We ride into Minas Tirith.
"Mithrandir!" Faramir called. Gandalf turned to face him, "They broke through our defences. They've taken the bridge and the West bank. Battalions of Orcs are crossing the river."
"It is as the Lord Denethor predicted! Long has he foreseen this doom!" Irolas said.
"Foreseen and done nothing!" Gandalf- 1; Denethor- 0!
Faramir looked at Pippin carefully, but I totally ruined it, and yelled, "Pippin!"
Gandalf looked shocked, but Pippin looked at me like I were a hallucination, "Lady Ruth?"
"Yeah…?" I ask. Then I remember the dream.
"Saruman said you had died." Gandalf explained.
"Well," I said. "We can all agree that Saruman's either a dirty liar or a horrible murderer, because I am pretty sure I'm alive… unless…" I watched Pippin's face turn into one of fear. "Nah, I'm alive." I smirked.
Pippin took a second to digest this information, whilst Gandalf shook his head with a smile, and then laughed.
Gandalf then turned back to Faramir, and said, "This is not the first Halfling to have crossed your path."
"No," Faramir said, with a shake of his head.
"You've seen Frodo and Sam?" Pippin asked us both.
"Osgiliath, Ithilien." I said. "We last saw them in Osgiliath. Yesterday. They should be in Minas Morgul by now, I think. Or maybe they're already in Cirith Ungol… eh, somewhere around there." I shrug.
"Your vague knowledge is somehow both a blessing and a curse," Gandalf sighed. "This is very bad…"
"What does that mean? What's wrong?" Pippin asked.
"Faramir, Ruth, tell me everything. Tell me all you know." Gandalf said.
Part Two: Attack of the Hyphen
I won't bore you with the long details of the interrogation, or how the following ended up happening, but I somehow managed to be present for when Faramir gets broken by his father. Twice.
Basically it went like this:
Angry-daddy: "This is how you would serve your city? You would risk its utter ruin?"
Faramir: "I did what I judged to be right."
Pissed-off-daddy: "What you judged to be right! You sent the Ring of power into Mordor in the hands of a witless Halfling!"
Me thinking to myself because my words would probably get me killed: 'If the halfling's witless, what does that make you?'
Somehow-managing-to-get-angrier-daddy: "It should have been brought back to the citadel to be kept safe. Hidden. Dark and deep in the vaults… not to be used…" eyes flicker in this really creepy way "...unless, at the uttermost end of need."
Me muttering to Gandalf: "Or not at all."
And-he-finally-sticks-up-for-himself… sorta: "I would not use the Ring. Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her."
And-he-keeps-getting-madder: "Ever you desire to appear lordly and gracious as a king of old. Boromir would have remembered his father's need. He would have brought me a kingly gift."
Me-still-muttering-to-Gandalf: "He's playing favorites with his living and dead sons." I shake my head.
Faramir looked pretty hurt, and I couldn't blame him. "Boromir would not have brought the Ring. He would have stretched out his hand to this thing and taking it he would have fallen."
"You know nothing of this matter!"
"He would have kept it for his own. And when he returned you would not have known your son."
I don't think he ever knew his son.
Denethor gave a bit of a shout, "Boromir was loyal to me! Not some wizard's pupil!" And nearly attacked Faramir, but he falls back to his chair before he can (at least he sits in the steward's chair).
"Father?" Faramir asked, totally oblivious (or really forgiving) of the fact his daddy was probably out for blood.
"My son!" And part of me knew, without thinking of anything, that he wasn't referring to Faramir. His face changed from joy to hate, like that, and cries out, "Leave me!"
Faramir turns, and leaves the hall.
Part Three: 'Great Lord of Men'
"What was I thinking? What service can a hobbit like me offer such a great lord of men?" Pippin asked me.
"Great lord of men?" I couldn't help but snort at.
"I wouldn't let my father hear you say that," Faramir said, coming through the door. He next addresses Pippin, "It was well done. A generous deed should not be checked with cold counsel. You are to join the tower guard."
"I didn't think they would find any livery that would fit me." Pippin said.
"Try finding armor for women in a Rohirric armory." I mutter, feeling so much respect for Éowyn.
Faramir looked at me oddly, before shaking his head, and handing Pippin his old clothes. "It once belonged to a young boy of the city. A very foolish one who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending his studies."
"You know, I can't tell if you're talking about you, or…" I didn't finish it, but you could guess by the fact that the mood suddenly was tense who I would have said. Me and my mouth.
Pippin, bless his cotton socks, saved me by being oblivious to it all, "This was yours?"
The air of tension lessened, and Faramir said, "Yes, it was mine. My father had it made for me."
"Oh sure," I complain, "You get hobbit-sized clothes from a man you just met after one complaint, yet I have to spend an hour searching for a helmet that would fit."
Pippin gives a small chuckle, and Faramir doesn't really know what to make of me.
"Well, I'm taller than you were then. Though, I'm not likely to grow anymore, except sideways." I give a little laugh at Pippin's remark.
"Where do you hobbits even store all that food?" I ask aloud. "Some men twice the size of you don't even eat half the amount of what you hobbits do."
Faramir raised an eyebrow, "How much do hobbits eat?"
Pippin blushed, "...Six meals a day, if we can get them."
I think this was the one time I caught Captain Faramir slack-jawed, and I savored that moment.
"Pippin," I say. "You need to do that ceremony thing with your 'great lord of men'."
Pippin nodded, "You'll come watch, right?"
"Didn't know I was allowed." I said. "But sure."
"You aren't usually allowed without the steward's permission," Faramir said, "But I'll be there for him to…"
"Pick on?" I supplied, "Bully? Lower the self-esteem of? I could go on."
Faramir shook his head, "You must really dislike my father if you are not afraid to publicly scorn him."
"Vehemently." I sarcastically cheered.
"I shall be there to ask of what he wishes I do next." Faramir said.
"Don't go doing anything stupid." I say.
Part Four: Faramir Does Something Stupid
"Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth until my lord release me or death take me." Pippin said.
"And I shall not forget it!" Denethor stood up and approached Pippin, "Nor fail to reward that which is given." He offered Pippin his ring on his finger, who closes his eyes and kisses it. Which is disgusting, by the way. I mean, how many other people have kissed that ring? And who knows what Denethor does with that hand late at night?
"Fealty with love. Valour with honour. Disloyalty with vengeance." He turns to Faramir, and Pippin retreats to my side. "I do not think we should so lightly abandon the outer defences. Defences that your brother long held intact."
Low Denethor.
"What would you have me do?" Back to great questions. What would Denethor have him do, if he didn't want to send Faramir on a suicide mission. What was Faramir expecting him to say? Or did he know. Maybe Faramir knew what Denethor would ask of him when he walked in here.
"I will not yield the River and Pelennor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken." Denethor seethed.
"My Lord, Osgiliath is over run." I speak up. Yes, I did just steal Faramir's line. I wonder what thoughts are running through that pretty head of his (Éowyn, this one's a keeper). "I had been there when it happened, and those alive are lucky to be."
He looked at me with disgusted and curious eyes. I was so lucky I hadn't been wearing pants at that moment. "Who let you in here? Nevermind, that is beside the point," He turned back to Faramir. "Much must be risked in war. Is there a captain here who still has the courage to do his lord's will?"
Is there a father here who still has the heart to keep his son safe?
One of those has a 'yes' for an answer, and the other has a 'no'. Guess which.
"You wish now that our places had been exchanged. That I had died and Boromir had lived." Faramir sighed. The Breaking Of The Faramir.
"No way," I 'dumbly' say. Hey, maybe Denethor will consider my words.
Or, you know, he'll just throw me in jail. Didn't think that through.
"Yes," He said, shooting me a harsh glare, to which I frowned to. "I wish that."
"Harsh," I hear Pippin not even utter.
"Since you are robbed of Boromir I will do what I can in his stead." Faramir said, bowing deeply and turning to leave the hall. Faramir turned back to his not-father (because no father should treat his son that way). "If I should return, think better of me father."
"That will depend on the manner of your return."
Part Five: Indomitos Tempestas
"Faramir!" I called, running out to meet him. "Faramir, you idiot, what did I tell you about not doing anything stupid!"
"It is my father's will." Faramir said, shoulders slumped, slowing down for me to catch up with him.
"It's a suicide mission that you could die on!" I said, "And then where will you be? In a coffin, in the ground- if your father has that much of a heart. He will think no better of you should you come back dead or alive; victorious or defeated."
Faramir looked at me, and I really wish his eyes weren't those of Boromir's. So alike to one another, except when my eyes would meet Boromir's, there was a calm storm in them. A light breeze, gentle clouds, yet a twister held on a leash. As my eyes met Faramir's, I saw that twister full force. Fury and pain, desperation and hope. It would not stop its rampage until the fury that caused it was rested, no matter how many daisies or lilies got trampled in its path.
"If I do happen to see my brother once more, I will mention you." Faramir said suddenly. "You were his friend, no?"
"General acquaintance," I say, biting my lip. "We… we never really got time to chat."
You left him to die. You knew his death.
Faramir smiled, "I am sure he threw a fit when he heard you were coming. My brother believed that women should be kept safe from war. Life… life, he said, was too dark. Love scarce, happiness rare." Faramir stopped looking at me, and instead found the floor. "Women was love, and children were happiness, he once told me. Don't let war take them away too, I think is what he meant, don't let darkness take away love and happiness." He looked at me once more, with eyes no longer a horrible masterpiece, yet they weren't his brother's either. They were Faramir's eyes, and Faramir's alone. "I ride out to protect the women and children, to keep that as far from darkness as possible."
And here I thought Boromir was just sexist.
Okay, that was a horrible thing to put after that speech, but I was sort of stunned for a moment. I mean, I always thought Boromir was just being a typical sexist man (oh god, I sound like a terrible human being rereading that sentence) when he didn't want me coming on the quest. Hell, if I could go back in time, I wouldn't want me coming on the quest. But to hear that… from his very own brother's mouth… it stung in a way I was all too familiar with.
Regret.
For being so terrible and judgemental of a good man with good intentions.
"I did not know that," I said. Only when I looked up, Faramir had gone. I run towards the main street that lead to the gates, and wait on the empty streets.
Soon a four-hoof rhythm filled the air, and crowds began to gather. Flowers were thrown into the street. I watched Gandalf try to reason with Faramir, but I did not go over. I instead watched the smallest soldier pass me.
Dallin.
"So this is it," I call up to him. The women and men around my look at us curiously, or with disgust at my disrespect.
That's okay, I get it a lot.
"I guess so." Dallin shrugged. "My duties after Rohan were to continue serving my captain. And serve I shall."
"Even as you march into death?" I asked.
"Even if I have to march into Mordor." Dallin replied.
His horse finds its way back into line, and I watch him disappear with the other soldiers.
Home is behind, the world ahead…
The crowed soon dispersed. Life picked up as it was before their departure, though a terrible gloom settled in.
And there are many paths to tread…
I searched for Gandalf, to ask about our next course of action. To ask of my companions, who believed me to be dead.
Through shadow, to the edge of night…
"The men of Rohan shall come to aid Gondor," Gandalf said. "But you know that already, don't you?"
Until the stars are all alight…
"Yes," I sigh, closing my eyes. "I do."
Mist and shadow cloud and shade…
"Sometimes I wish I did not." I say, opening my eyes and staring at Gandalf a bit. "Sometimes I feel like it would be best if I were oblivious to it all, if I had not joined the Fellowship. If I had stayed in Rivendell, or Lothlorien, or Mirkwood."
All shall fade…
"Why should I have to know the deaths of so many, if I cannot save them?" I ask, tears brimming my eyes.
All shall…
"Perhaps that is a question best left unasked."
Fade...