Chapter XVI – Forgiveness
18 Narwain, T.A. 3001
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"Faramir?"
Faramir looked up from his desk, his eyes dull and lightless with exhaustion. His left arm was in a sling, and his entire body seemed to wilt from weariness. It took him a moment to realize that the man standing in his doorway was Captain Seregorn.
"Faramir…" The Captain stepped forward haltingly, his eyes flickering over Faramir's bandaged left arm. "Who did this to you?"
"It is my punishment," said Faramir softly. He could not bear to meet the Captain's eyes, dreading to find the same look of hatred that had marked the eyes of his father. "It is what I must endure to be reminded of what I have done. To ensure that I will always remember what I have done…"
"Faramir, do you mean to tell me that your father did this?"
"I wish you would not say it like that," said Faramir, disconcerted by the Captain's words. "'Did this.' My father did exactly what I knew he would." He still averted his eyes from Captain Seregorn's face. "In a way…it was what I wanted him to do. He punished me. He isn't abusive, Captain, if that is what you are thinking. My father has never been an abusive man. He punishes me justly, when he believes I have deserved it. And…he felt that I should be reminded of my duty to Gondor. Of my duty to fight. I had no choice but to fight back, and I lost."
"He forced you to fight?"
"To make sure I would never make the same fatal mistake again," said Faramir wearily. "He is ashamed of me, for what I have done…" Faramir felt a knot of anger and hurt ball up in his stomach, anger at his father for forcing him to fight and hurt for his father's sharp words.
"If I treat you like an animal, it is because your uses are no better than an animal's."
"You did not kill Aerandir," said Captain Seregorn. "It was not right of the Lord Denethor to say so."
"Why are you here?"
The Captain paused. "Your father sent me. He wishes you to accompany me into the lower city."
"Why?"
"He says you are to be with me when I tell Aerandir's parents."
Faramir turned pale, and it took every ounce of strength he had to keep tears of panic from welling in his eyes. Slowly, painfully, he rose from his seat.
"As the Lord Denethor commands," said Faramir quietly, his head bowed in shame. This was also his punishment. Denethor knew exactly how to hit Faramir where it hurt the most. The physical trial was only the beginning.
The Captain was silent as they walked the crowded streets of Minas Tirith. It was midday now. Faramir felt the weight of the Captain's presence, the heavy sorrow and the grief. Most of all, he could feel his disappointment, and the crushing sense of failure returned to Faramir for the hundredth time.
"You will remain silent," said the Captain at last, barely glancing at Faramir. "You will not address them, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"You will not weep, either. Allow them the dignity of their grief for their son, but remain strong."
"Yes, sir."
"Faramir…" Captain Seregorn stopped suddenly and looked down at his former Ranger. "This is as difficult for me as it is for you. Do not forget that."
"Yes, sir."
The house was small but pleasant. A grey cat preened itself on the front steps. A line of laundry hung from the windows. Captain Seregorn stepped over the cat and knocked thrice on the door. Faramir watched him falter, then regain his composure a moment before the door was answered by a proud, middle-aged man with greying hair but strong brown eyes. He bowed half-way when he saw Faramir, but the look in his eyes was clearly wary when they fell upon the Captain.
"Can I help you, sirs?" the man asked tensely. "Please, won't you come in?"
Faramir and Captain Seregorn crossed the threshold into a small room with a tub of soapy water in one corner and a hearth in the other. A small boy was playing with a wooden mûmak on the frayed rug, and a tired-looking woman stood over the hearth. The man exchanged brief words with the woman and then told the boy to go into the next room, and the two of them turned to face Faramir and the Captain.
"Sir, madam," said Captain Seregorn respectfully. Faramir could feel the pain behind every word, because it was echoed in his own quick breath. "I am Captain Seregorn of the Ithilien Rangers." The man and woman drew closer together, as if by instinct. "It is my most unfortunate duty to inform you that your son Aerandir was slain…" The woman sobbed loudly and buried her face in her husband's shirt. The man held her tightly, in too much shock to weep. "…while defending our outpost from an orc horde. If it is any comfort to you…I would say that he died bravely, and Gondor is forever indebted to him for his service to his country."
Faramir felt tears choking in his throat, and though he remembered Captain Seregorn's orders, he could not follow them. He watched Aerandir's parents grieve, and it struck him as hard as any physical blow of his father's sword. With his unwounded arm, Faramir unclipped Aerandir's sword from his belt and kneeled before the mother and father in grief.
"I have kept it safe," said Faramir softly, lifting the Rohirric sword in its bloodstained sheath. He could sense Captain Seregorn's displeasure, but he ignored it. "Now I return it to you."
The man reached out towards the sword, the over-bright gleam of unshed tears lingering in his eyes. He paused with his fingers inches from the scabbard and looked at Faramir while struggling with his tears. With one hand he steadied his wife.
"Were you…a friend of my son, Lord Faramir?" he asked, his proud features crumbling into grief.
Breathlessly, Faramir swallowed his own tears and nodded. "Yes, sir. I would have died in his place, could I have done." He looked away suddenly in shame. " I am sorry, I have spoken too rashly. Please, forgive me…"
The wife tore away from the man suddenly and dashed into the next room where her little son remained, as if to be sure that he, at least, was still safely with her. The man faltered without her next to him, as if by comforting her he had been able to assuage some of his own agony.
"The fault is not yours," said the man sadly, a sob working its way through him at last. "I-I would have you remember my son w-with happiness…not in grief." He pushed the sword gently back into Faramir's hand. "Please…keep the blade…as a token of my gratitude. You…you would have given everything for my son…and I hope the Lord Faramir will accept the humble offer of friendship we have to give."
"Please," said Faramir, dying with each word that left the man's lips. "I ask only for your forgiveness…"
"Why do you ask for this?"
"Because I…" Faramir paused in agony. "Because I could not save your son…"
The man shuddered as another unheard sob passed through him. "Then if it is forgiveness you seek, forgiveness you shall have. I bear no grudge against you, my Lord Faramir. I would not have you carry the burden of guilt for this…for…this tragedy…" The sound of crying came suddenly from the next room, and the man seemed to shrink inwardly as the noise brought more tears to his eyes. "Please…excuse me…"
Captain Seregorn and Faramir showed themselves to the door, and outside the Captain stood silently for a long moment. Tears streamed down Faramir's face, and he shook from repressed sobs, forgetting that he was seventeen years old, a man, and should not be crying. He knew that the Captain was angry with him, and he waited expectantly for the admonishment he was sure to receive.
The Captain clapped Faramir's shoulder. "Well done, Faramir," he whispered gruffly. "Well done."
"I-I did not do as you ordered, sir," stuttered Faramir in surprise.
"No, lad, but I'm glad you did not."
Faramir looked down at the sword in his and clutched it so tightly that his knuckles almost turned white from the strain. "Why…why?" he asked.
"Why am I glad?"
"No… Why would he forgive me?"
Captain Seregorn sighed. "He recognized the sincerity and the sorrow in your words, Faramir. Aerandir's father has forgiven you, so that he may move on without burdening himself with useless blame. No matter whose fault it is that Aerandir died, he is gone forever. The only thing we can do is move on. It's time for you to move on, too, Faramir."
Faramir felt his injured hand curl into a fist in its sling, causing a twinge of pain along his arm. "My father will never forgive me…"
"It is not up to your father to forgive you. It is up to you to forgive yourself."
"How can I?" Faramir's fist fell limp. "Innocent people are weeping inside that house, and it's my fault."
"Fault did not matter to Aerandir's father, and so it should not matter to you," said the Captain sternly.
"Will you take me back?"
Stunned, Captain Seregorn stared blankly at Faramir, answerless. "Faramir," he said softly. "Why such a change in heart?"
Faramir leveled his gaze straight at the Captain's for the first time. "It is an insult to Aerandir if I abandon the Rangers," he said. "He died defending Gondor… It is only fitting that I commit myself to that same level of devotion. I wish to be a Ranger again, Captain. I wish to fight and die for my country, just like Aerandir."
Captain Seregorn eyed Faramir, unsettled by the young man's words. "This has nothing to do with your father?" he asked suspiciously.
Faramir laughed weakly but gave no reply.
"Very well," said the Captain, smiling. "Welcome back, Faramir. It will be good to have you standing beside us again. We'll need you in Ithilien, now more than ever." Captain Seregorn paused. "I never meant to tell you this when you were so young, Faramir, but I want you to know now. If I die, I want you to succeed me as Captain of the Ithilien Rangers."
Faramir looked up at the Captain in shock. "Me?" he repeated in a hoarse voice. "Why not Mablung?"
The Captain shook his head. "Mablung is skilled, but he's more suited to the role of lieutenant. You'll also want to keep him out of the fighting for the most part, since he's the best healer we have."
"Why not Damrod? Or Anborn? They're all older and more experienced than I…"
"They aren't much older than yourself," said Captain Seregorn, "and they lack the charisma that you have, Faramir. You have a lot of potential for a man of your age, and I know in my heart that one day you will bring honor to your name, and your father will recognize it."
Faramir looked down. "I thought so once, a long time ago. I'm seventeen, Captain. I don't really believe in fantasy stories anymore."
Captain Seregorn gave him a wry smile. "Ah, that's the problem with you young men. You always think you know everything."
Without waiting for Faramir to respond, the Captain nodded a farewell and disappeared around a corner and down an alleyway. Faramir was left standing in front of the stoop of the low house where Aerandir's parents lived, and he watched the grey cat continue preening itself as if nothing had happened.
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I wonder if my father knew that sending me to accompany Captain Seregorn would cause me to rejoin the Ithilien Rangers. Is his control over me so complete that he can manipulate me so easily, like a puppet on strings? Is he so clever that he can devise such schemes without my knowing? Does he care enough about me to go through such trouble? No, he cares not for me. If it is true that he foresaw today's events, it was for his own profit, the upkeep of his own image, and not for my benefit.
I do not care whether or not it is my father's will that I rejoin the Rangers. It is my will, my decision, my own guilt which moves me. He has had his share in punishing me. Now I feel that it was not enough. What good are physical bruises that will fade with time? What use could his 'lesson' have possibly served me? None. It is not enough that I suffer a temporary hurt. What I want, what I need, is to feel so selfless and so disconnected from myself that I can no longer heed myself before others.
I swore never to kill a living thing again for as long as I live. Now I resign myself to break that vow. For Aerandir, I will put Gondor before myself. It is the only way, I know, to forgive myself and to ensure that this tragedy is not repeated.
Gandalf spoke to me of crafting the man I am to become, of following my dream to become a scholar. I realize now that, as much as I desire this dream, it is a fantasy that cannot happen. I will not allow it to happen. To put my own desires before the needs of my country would be an unforgivable act of selfishness that would put Aerandir's memory and his family to shame.
So I surrender myself to my father's will. If he would have me be a soldier, then so be it.
I am Faramir, soldier of Gondor.
Narwain
(January)