Author's Note: Well, here it is, the final chapter of "Wounded". I am not sure what you will think of the ending as it is, hmm, not exactly canon-abiding, but I look forward to hearing your feedback. I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed this story and also everyone who read but did not review. Thank you all! Also, thanks to MerryKK, Nari-chan SND, Awen1923, childofGod-4ever, and enkemeniel for reviewing the last chapter. As always I do not have a beta and while I have proofread this chapter many times, I am sure I have not caught all my mistakes. Any errors that appear in canon, grammar or spelling are my fault and my fault alone. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Tolkien's masterpiece.
Chapter Fifteen Pity
They were running, a cold wind rushing about their limbs and gnawing at their flesh. Spring had melted into the frigid touch of winter or so it seemed to Faramir. The sky grayed and sent rain dashing into his eyes. He squinted and blinked and tried to drive the sting away. One hand found his sword.
With a fleeting glance, he caught sight of Boromir racing beside him. The trees lashed them and the Elves had all but disappeared in their haste to aid their kin. All that remained was his brother and the same cry that brokenly poured into the air.
"Yrch! Yrch!"
It sent tremors dancing up Faramir's spine. But his battle-hardened mind ignored the empty promise of fear and he drove on.
The forest was thick but just as Faramir felt lost, the trees parted and revealed a tiny clearing. Rain battered the ground and streamed off the Orcs. They were pushing through the brush with great swords and bows nocked with black arrows.
Faramir caught sight of Haldir's company. By the edge of the glade they stood and tried to stem the horde that seemed not to end. A keen whistle sounded as the Elves released a volley. Orcs fell. Some stood and stumbled, arrows protruding from legs or arms.
More Elves stood to the back of the clearing, some upon the ground. Blood spilled from small wounds and gashes. Others had taken to the trees.
And in that moment Faramir felt his heart ache. Oh that such evil should come to fair Lorien.
"For Gondor!" Boromir cried of a sudden. He launched himself into a mass of growling Orcs and drove his blade through the neck of one. Wrenching his sword free, he took of the arm of another and gutted a third.
A small Orc crept behind him, however and Faramir awoke from his stupor. He raised his sword to hack down upon the creature's head but an Elven arrow flew beneath his arm. The Orc fell dead and Haldir lowered his bow to ready another arrow.
Boromir once more steadied himself and dragged his sword across the chest of an Orc. Faramir swung his blade into the torso of one. Black blood spurted over his hands and he withdrew his blade. But before the Orc had fallen, a cry distracted him.
"Valar! Help! Oh help me please!"
He wheeled about. By the back of the glade an Elf maid was struggling to scale the branches of a tree. An Orc below reached his muscled arm up and tore her down. She hit the ground, rolled over once and struggled to stand. But the Orc was quicker. The creature's hand flew across her face and the maid collapsed. Blood smeared her lips.
Faramir leapt forward. The Orc turned but could not move away. He sunk his blade deep into the beast's side. The Orc howled once, then fell.
"Loose!" Haldir cried. A volley tore through the trees and sliced through the last of the onslaught. Boromir cut down a final Orc and the commotion ceased at once. All was dreadfully still.
Faramir knelt by the fallen maid and lifted her head against his knee. Her eyes fluttered open with a gasp. She pressed her hands to her broken nose and split lip.
"We had no warning," she said. Grasping his hand, she sat upright. "None at all, we had no warning."
"But how is that so Rodwen?" Haldir moved amongst the wounded Elves to stand by her side. "Reports came in throughout the morning."
"I knew not of it," Rodwen sobbed. "A guard spoke with me not two hours past. She said the way was clear for us."
Haldir's gaze suddenly hardened.
"She said the way was clear," Rodwen continued to babble.
Faramir glanced up at Haldir. Their eyes met and at once, they knew.
Aniror.
Faramir had never seen such a sad being. Lady Galadriel sat before him and her eyes were dark with grief.
His heart broke for her pain.
"I fear a dark day has come to the Golden Wood," she said at length. Her pale hands curved over the arms of her chair, her gown a pool of ivory that spilled over her feet.
Faramir tried to speak but could find no words. Night had come, deep but not dark. The moon rode waves of blue clouds between the stars. The air was mild. Lothlorien stood still.
"Forgive my sorrow," the Lady continued. She stood. "I am happy for what you have done for us. The attack on the borders was no business of yours."
Faramir nodded. "How could we not think to aid those that have done so much for us?"
"You could have left," she said. "And returned to your city."
"I should have never lived with myself then," Faramir replied. "Nor Boromir. So much we owe you, Lady."
"I hope you do not mind this further delay." The Lady turned from him and walked slowly across the chamber. They stood within the greeting hall of her talan. No Elves moved about and for that Faramir was grateful. The afternoon had been a nightmare.
"Of course not," he replied. The Lady paused, her face turned to an open window. For a moment, Faramir felt as though he were intruding upon her private thoughts. The moonlight bathed her and made her face both young and old.
"It was kind of you to help Haldir and his company back to the city," she said. Something tugged at her voice. "I was glad, for I had need to speak with you once more, only once more." The finality of her tone made Faramir's skin prickle.
Another long moment passed. The Lady looked away from the window and at him.
How great is your pity, Captain?
Faramir knew the question was not meant to be answered. Not yet, at least.
"Aniror has committed a foul crime," Lady Galadriel said. "A great crime, as it is. She led her kin into danger from which there may have been no escape."
"Yes," Faramir said and nothing more.
"I fear for her and I could weep for her, but no longer can I help her."
"Then what will become of her, Lady?"
Galadriel sighed and walked back to her chair. "No longer may she stay in Lothlorien. Her time here is past. And she will not find refuge with Lord Elrond. Captain Erthor and Rodwen are beloved by him."
"Will she leave these shores then?" Faramir asked. But Galadriel's eyes spoke a different tale. A tremor raced through him.
"No, Captain. She shan't. It is not her time."
How great is your pity?
Faramir swallowed. Could she truly be asking this of him? "Then what is to become of her?"
Galadriel smiled softly. "I dare not speak of what my mind whispers. Perhaps she will take to the road as some of our kin have. They wander, homeless, lost. It is a sad fate."
"Do you not think she may deserve it?" Faramir asked. "As a punishment?" Galadriel lowered her eyes and her eyelashes shadowed her glance.
"I speak not of punishment. How can she be punished if she has been misled? Yes, mayhap my heart is kind but I knew Aniror since her birth here in this Wood. There is still an innocence to her, not touched by maliciousness. And I believe she should not be abandoned to torment. But the question must be posed, Faramir. How great is your pity?"
Faramir understood then. His shoulders sagged under the impossible weight of her question and for an instant, he thought to refuse her. But who could rightly refuse the Lady of Light? He needed an excuse.
"She would run from me," he said at last. Galadriel tipped her head to the side and her hair touched her right hip.
"No, I do not think she would. Where could she hope to find shelter? The Men and creatures of this world are not so friendly to Elves as they once were, especially to one of Aniror's manner."
"Then she would waste away, lost to grief," Faramir tried again.
"And why should she be grieved?" Galadriel asked. "She has suffered no great loss that would take the life from her. Erthor she despises and Lothlorien has grown cold to her. Aniror would not succumb to grief."
Faramir sighed and withheld a shudder. The Lady no longer skirted about the matter. He would have to face it. "I cannot take her to Gondor with me."
"I have not asked you to," Galadriel said. "I have only asked how great your pity is for her. If you have none, then you should leave Lorien without a care and think no more on Aniror. But you must ask yourself, shall guilt follow you forevermore?"
"Yes." The answer fell from his lips before he could stop it. Faramir's face flushed, his blood coursing heatedly beneath his skin. Yes, he would feel guilty. Why, he did not know. Why he should pity such a wretch, why he should be so weak…
"It has naught to do with weakness," the Lady said at once and he stared at her. "You are compassionate to one whom you once thought to love. There is no weakness in such."
"I cannot take her with me," he repeated after a moment's silence. "Her presence would be a burden."
"As would your guilt."
Faramir sighed. "Then I am trapped."
Galadriel regarded him with soft eyes. "A man without emotion is free. Would you wish to be careless in every manner? I think not, for an unhappy fate it should be."
"Then what am I to do?" Faramir asked. Impatience touched his voice, along with worry.
He feared the Lady's answer.
"You wish my counsel?"
"Yes, my lady. Yes I do."
Lady Galadriel stood once more and she paced about him. Faramir felt his tension ease, the soft patter of her footsteps lulling his mind into easy thoughts.
"The counsel of the Elves is not given lightly. Many have learned not to turn to us for advice and rightly so. Never do we speak definitively on any matter."
"Then I am lost," Faramir said. The Lady laughed.
"Think not so harshly, dear Captain. I have yet to speak."
She paced for a moment more, then paused. "My sight reaches far and little happens in amongst my people that I do not sense. I shall say this clearly, hindered with no veil or guarded hint. Aniror is your wife."
Faramir turned about to gaze at her and when her eyes met his, he understood.
"By our laws and customs," she continued. "She is your wife. Marriages between your kind and ours are not common. Three there have been betwixt the Eldar and those of the Dunedain. But others there have been between lesser Elves and your kind."
"You wish me to take her to Gondor as my wife?" Faramir asked. "I could not! What should my father think? The people? Aniror loves me not and I care little for her."
"Only you know the riddles of your heart," Galadriel said. "But pause and consider, if you will. Aniror knows she is your wife as well and if she should be cast out upon the road, perhaps her path would lead her to the White City."
Faramir felt his heartbeat quicken. What if Aniror came to Gondor seeking him? What then would he tell his father after the lie had been discovered? And what mischief would Aniror think to stir?
"You have a decision to make, Captain." The Lady stood before him, hands folded. "Aniror could be dangerous as your wife or dangerous as your enemy."
A sigh escaped Faramir along with any hope that he might escape Lorien unchanged. What choice dare he make when both presented him with such peril?
"She must come to Gondor," he said at length. Tears slipped down his cheeks. Galadriel brushed them away with her hand.
"Do not fear," she said. "Your wisdom is not dark and neither shall be your fate. Fear not."
And she turned away, sitting upon her chair like a great queen that has once reigned but now grows old. Her beauty, however, did not fade.
"I will speak with Aniror," the Lady said. "And she will be compliant."
Faramir nodded and bowed. He knew he would receive no further counsel. Without a word, he left the chamber.
The stairs leading from the Lady's talan were white with the color of moonlight. Faramir walked slowly and listened to the heavy beat of his heart. Had he been just? Or had been weak?
He could not decide and never wished to.
A figure moved on the stair below. Grey cloaked shoulders shook with a shiver. Faramir paused. Aniror sat huddled against the step.
He did not know if she saw him or sensed him in the manner that Elves could. She did not look up, but her voice filtered out into the soft air. He heard her tears.
"I saw myself alone," she said. "But not alone in company. Shadows haunted my steps, haunted my mind. All fell to the darkness. I waited for aid but none came. None wished too. Not even my sister."
"Not alone," Faramir replied. He leaned over her and met her gaze, shielded by tears. "Not alone."
Aniror's face remained impassive, but something invaded her eyes and made her limbs tremble all the more.
"There shall come a time when you will hate me. You will curse the day when you called me wife and brought me forth from exile into Gondor. And then I will come to hate you."
Aniror fell silent. Faramir stiffened for a moment, but then remembered his pity. She spoke with anger, not with thought. And he left her, walking down to the forest floor to meet his brother.
Boromir was sitting by the stone fountain before the Lady's talan. One hand lay upon his lap, the other upon his sword. Faramir could not help but smile as he watched his brother's eyes droop and shut.
"Awake!" he cried aloud. Boromir was on his feet in an instant.
"Do we leave?" he asked. "But ah, it is night already."
"On the morrow," Faramir replied. He settled himself onto the soft grass and Boromir did the same. "At dawn. But we travel not alone."
Boromir's eyes narrowed. "How then?"
"With Aniror."
"What?" Boromir was on his feet again. Faramir reached up, grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.
"She goes with us."
"Faramir, do not heed her empty promises and guile," Boromir warned. The fear on his face curbed Faramir's smile.
"She has said naught to me."
"Then why? She cannot come to Gondor."
"I fear she must," Faramir said. "No longer is she welcome in Lorien."
"So we must care for her? This is madness!" Boromir's eyes blazed and for a moment, Faramir thought to drop the argument. With a steadying breath, he forced himself to continue on.
"She is my wife."
"By their laws, not ours."
"And what if, by her law, she should come to Gondor and make it known?"
Boromir's jaw tightened. He seemed to chew over the thought. "We would deny it," he said at length.
"She would torment me."
"She will torment you now if you let her."
"Have pity, brother." Faramir laid his hand upon Boromir's shoulder. His brother slumped over, his face grim.
"I have no pity for one such as her."
"Then pity me."
"Your folly?" Boromir was adamant. He shrugged off Faramir's hand and paced. "I will not see you fall into disgrace once more, no. Foul it is that you suffered here in Lorien, but not in Gondor. Not in Gondor."
"She has not bewitched me," Faramir said slowly. His brother's opposition was not unexpected but he had hoped for more understanding. "I act according to my own free will."
"Then I fear you have gone mad."
"Brother, please." Faramir leaned against the fountain, his hand slapping his thigh. "What other course might I take?"
"Leave her here," Boromir replied. His head was down, eyes upon the ground.
"I could not."
"Why?"
Faramir rolled his shoulders to ease away the tension. "I should feel guilty."
"Then you are indeed naïve and foolish. She would have you following her about like a mindless beast, that Elf! Why feel guilt in abandoning her? She is wicked."
"I think not."
Boromir's lifted his gaze and stared at his brother. "Faramir…"
"I do not think her wicked," Faramir said. "I think her misled. None too wise and wounded perhaps. But she is broken now and can do us no harm."
"But why help her?" Boromir asked. His voice cracked and something other than the starlight shone in his eyes.
"Because it is just and right. And do not think that I was not skeptical at the first. Yet I have thought the matter over and my pity is too great to ignore."
Boromir shook his head. "I see no wisdom in this."
"Then I swear to you, that if she proves to be trouble, I will send her away." Faramir watched a slow change come over his brother. Boromir raised his chin, his stance becoming proud and challenging.
"You swear to it?"
"Upon my love for you," Faramir said, then added. "And for mother."
Boromir placed his hands on his hips and walked once about the fountain. Faramir knew not to disturb his thoughts.
"Very well," Boromir said. He came to sit once more beside his younger brother. "We have much yet to consider though."
"Yes." Faramir let his smile return. Unlike Aniror, he knew his sibling would never think to abandon him.
Boromir planted his chin in the palm of his hand with an exaggerated sigh. "And what shall we think to tell father?"
It was a bright dawn though Faeleth wished it would rain. Her tears would be shielded then and the world would weep along with her as she watched her sister depart. Oh Valar, why had it come to this?
She stood with Haldir upon the balcony of their talan. Below on the forest floor, Aniror sat with Boromir and Faramir. They would leave the Wood before the hour had passed.
Her heart broke at the mere thought.
"I cannot go," Faeleth whispered and crushed her face into her husband's chest. Tears leaked onto the fabric of his tunic but she made no effort to stop them.
"You must say farewell to your sister," Haldir said gently. He tugged her hair with his fingers. "It is expected."
"Aniror does not wish to see me."
Haldir sighed and Faeleth felt his chest heave beneath her forehead. "She is mad now, but not for long. I know she will wish to see her sister."
Faeleth nibbled upon her quivering bottom lip. "There is nothing I may say to her."
"Then there is nothing to say her. Such words are empty."
Why was Aniror so reckless, so selfish, so cunning? And why was she Faeleth's sister, her caring, brilliant and joyful sister?
There would be no painful parting then if she did not love her sister. No tears and sorrow that rose up against her like a great wave, smothering and unstoppable. Faeleth did not want to wish Aniror farewell.
"Ada? Naneth?" Pelilas' voice reached her ears and at once she tore away from her husband, drying her tears.
Their son stood just inside the talan, a frown pulling at his lips and plump cheeks.
"What is it, little one?" Haldir asked. Faeleth could not master her voice.
Pelilas did not answer at once. Instead he walked out onto the balcony and leaned over the railing. His short arms dangled over the wooden rail.
"I visited with him," he said. His voice was deeper, Faeleth thought and heavy with an understanding that came with age.
She stepped forward, her hand coming to rest on his head.
"With whom?" Haldir asked but Faeleth already knew. She gazed down at Faramir standing below. His face was young and keen with the first light of dawn.
"I told him to take care of Aunt Aniror," Pelilas continued. "He promised he would. Do you think he will?" Here he paused and stared at his mother. Faeleth found a smile for her son.
"Yes, I think he will." She took Pelilas' little hand in his and led him back into the talan.
"Where do you go?" Haldir asked after them.
Faeleth paused and turned. "To say farewell."
The End
Author's Note: Whew! That was the longest fanfic I have ever written! Again, I would like to thank everyone for reading. Please, take the time to review and share your thoughts with me. The sequel, The Price of Pity, will be up on Saturday and I'll give you a little sneak preview of it if you are interested. It is Faramir-centric of course and Aniror is still a main character (sort of) along with Eowyn. Yes, dear Eowyn. It is actually a Faramir/Eowyn pairing and thus a bit more canon-friendly than this story was. However, it is drastically different than "Wounded" and a tragedy, so expect tons of angst!
Thanks again everyone!