Chapter 13

*I am horrible with making up names so please bear with me! Thank you!*

Faramir was roused from sleep on Boromir's shoulder when the soldiers came next. The moonlight shone from the window, proving it to be late at night.

Boromir was awake at the sound of a creaking door. He instinctively guarded Faramir with his arm.

It was Ceredon and Garapen. They stared at them. Garapen held two, long, thick pieces of rope and a piece of cloth.

It was time.

Faramir felt the stab of fear return. It tore his heart apart. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. He grasped Boromir's hand, squeezing it tight. Boromir let him.

"Oh come now," Ceredon soothed sarcastically. "Saying good-bye to each other shouldn't be that hard. Let's go, Boromir."

"No!" Faramir pleaded. "Please! Please, no!"

"Shut up, child!" Ceredon aimed his fist at Faramir.

Boromir hit Ceredon. "Leave him alone!"

Garapen hit Boromir, the impact sending the prince to the ground. They pinned him. Faramir tore at them desperately, but he was of no concern to them. They unlocked Boromir's chains, bound his hands and feet, gagged him, and stood him up.

"Will you get his feet?" Ceredon asked Garapen.

"Of course."

"Stop it!" Faramir cried. "Let him go! Let him go!"

"I said shut up!" Ceredon yelled. He kicked Faramir in the gut, tuning out the cold cries of Boromir. The prisoner bucked his feet and thrashed around in his enemies' grasp.

"Oh, I understand!" Ceredon cried with feigned concern. "You will let us do nearly anything to you, as long as your little brother stays safe! Is that it?"

Boromir looked at the captain hard, his eyes speaking more hatred then most men could possess. Faramir was smart enough and depressed enough to remain silent.

Ceredon smiled. "I thought so. Come on."

Faramir cried and yelled as his helpless brother was robbed from his sight. He cursed them as they shut the door, leaving their first victim in captivity.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried not to think about where his brother was going. Why Boromir? Why didn't they take him? He wouldn't have worried about Boromir if he were the one taken in his stead. But he realized that if he had been taken, Boromir would've been the one to be plagued with worry.

He pulled at the chains, wanting not only to be free, but to strangle everyone of the pigs involved in his kidnapping. How long had he been here? He figured he was kidnapped around two days ago, but it felt longer.

As he scraped his hand across the chain, he discovered something that nearly made him jump up and laugh for joy.

"The bolt holding the chain to the wall is loose!" he whispered hoarsely. "Why didn't we see it before?"

He ferociously tore at the link, his anger and depression strengthening him. He prayed every second that he could get free, that he could see his brother again.

Just like Boromir promised.

Boromir stopped thrashing at Ceredon and Garapen like a hopeless, brainless animal. He realized that it was hopeless, futile to put up a fight. He was taught by his father to never surrender, but he didn't know what to do now.

They dropped him next to a cart.

"Time to prove yourself!" Ceredon snarled at someone. "Here's a knife. Cut him."

Boromir looked up to who Ceredon was speaking to.

Beregond? Beregond! Beregond, the man that had consoled him, comforted him, served under him was behind this? This was the traitor!

"You said that you have no respect for your lords. Cut him," Ceredon ordered.

Beregond took the knife. He knelt down to Boromir, who was lying on his back. Boromir wrestled in the binds, but Beregond managed to slice all the way down Boromir's upper arm. Boromir bit the gag to keep from screaming.

"It is done."

"Good. Paradon will show you what to do from here on. We need to keep him as far away from his father as possible. It's alright if he gets the youngest one back, but his favorite is staying hidden. Do you understand Beregond?"

"Yes sir. Will the men see us?"

"No. They should be watching Mordor to the East for the attack; they won't be looking to the West." Boromir just heard the whisper between captain and Paradon. "Keep him well-guarded in Ithilien. Keep an eye on Beregond."

Boromir scowled at Beregond as he was lifted by the bearded scum. When Beregond had him in hearing distance, he spoke so softly and so fast Boromir just barely caught the message.

"Your father sent me to find you. Please don't think I've betrayed you, milord! Forgive me!"

Boromir sighed out of relief. They threw him into the cart, spread a blanket over the wagon so that no one would see the Steward's son, and shortly after, Boromir felt the wagon jump to a start, ponies' hooves pounding. He thought about kicking off the blanket, but decided against it. If Beregond was here, then either he or his father had a plan.

Ceredon said they were taking him to Ithilien. Beregond had to stop when they were out of the sight of the watch guard of Osgiliath. He just had to. He needed the fastest, shortest way possible to get back to Faramir. In Beregond's hands, Boromir knew he was safe, but Faramir was still with the pig-headed slime.

Boromir promised to get Faramir home. Boromir would keep that promise.

Faramir laughed when the chain finally broke about an hour after his brother was taken. His arms ached and his hands were blistering, dead skin guarding sores, but he didn't care. He swung the chain around, testing how heavy it was in his hand. It was perfect for him. Finally! A weapon he could use!

"Garapen! Garapen! Garapen! Garapen! I want food! Garapen!" He called the guard's name, hoping to irritate him so he would open the door…and fall unconscious with Faramir's blow. "Garapen! Garapen! Garapen! Garapen!"

The door flew open and Faramir readied himself.

"What do you want, you useless-ah!" Garapen realized he was unchained too late.

Faramir swung. The chain hit Garapen's neck. He buckled to the floor, gasping like a fish for air. Faramir swung more, his anger boiling.

He swung and swung, beating Garapen, taking all of his hate and revenge out on this one man.

Finally, he stopped.

Garapen was moaning, crying, gasping for breath. Faramir stared at the chain which he beat his captor with. His eyes rapidly switched between the weapon and the victim. He couldn't do it. He couldn't beat this man after he had been beaten so ruthlessly. He couldn't be the pigs his kidnappers were.

He bolted down the stairs, not looking back. He bolted out the door and nearly ran to the nearest soldier he saw, but remembering that he didn't know who was on his side, he ducked in the nearest alley. He saw the soldiers march past him, reporting for duty. He sucked in his gut, not breathing. He didn't know who to trust. He couldn't throw his life into the hands of someone who wanted the coins. But he couldn't wait around in case Garapen came out looking for him.

He ran.

It was an hour before Beregpnd even considered acting. Osgiliath was just a speck on the horizon. He needed to be out of the watch of the tower guard before he even batted an eye at his partner, who was driving the cart.

"Would you like me to drive, Paradon?" Beregond finally asked when he was absolutely certain of no watchful eyes.

"Yes, of course. Thank you." Paradon handed the reins over like cautiously, remembering what Ceredon told him.

"My pleasure," Beregond said. He held the reins in one hand and unsheathed his sword with the other.

"Beregond, what are you doing?" Paradon worriedly asked.

"Don't worry, this will be only a little less painful than being hit in the head with a hilt. Which is what it is."

Beregond, quicker than comprehension, stood up and hit Paradon's forehead with the metal hilt of his sword. Paradon, defenseless, buckled down and fell out of the cart, unconscious.

The horses neighed, worried. Beregond rushed to them, calmed them, and made them stay put. He ran to the back of the cart, pulled off the sheet, looking at an impatient brother.

"Boromir, hold on," Beregond ordered as he untied his feet and hands. Boromir ripped the gag out of his mouth and bolted off of the cart.

"Milord!" Beregond cried as he tackled the warrior to the ground. "What are you doing, milord!"

"They still have Faramir, Beregond!" Boromir cried. "We have to hurry."

"Milord, stop! Milord!" Beregond wrestled for control. "Boromir! Hastiness will not rescue your brother. Be calm!"

Boromir finally took a deep breath. He let his head fall to the ground. Beregond let go of him, and he didn't move an inch.

"Now, we will rescue your brother. Milord, with all due respect, I will work better if you return to Minas Tirith. They will not see one man, but they will see two men."

Boromir leapt up. He hissed in a breath and pinched his lips together. "I won't go back to my father unless my brother is by my side. Do you hear me?"

"I understand, milord, but two grown men cannot be stealthy enough to sneak into that building to rescue your brother."

"Then you're going back to Minas Tirith, not me!" Boromir cried. "I promised him that I'd come after him. I told him that I'd get him out of there! Beregond, I need to go!"

Beregond saw the pain in his superior's eyes. He nodded. "As you wish, milord. Just let me bandage this wound." Beregond paled and started shaking. "Oh, milord, forgive me! I have struck you!"

"Beregond! You saved my life and now you're saving my brother's. I promise you, you will be rewarded!"

"Thank you, milord." He tore off a strip of cloth from his tunic and started wrapping it around Boromir's arm. When it was finished, Beregond started to head for Osgiliath.

"One moment." Boromir took the ropes and gag from the back of the cart and started tying the unconscious criminal.

Boromir looked to Beregond. "Poetic justice."

Beregond nodded.