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Lust for possession (R) Print

Written by Anastasiya

18 April 2010 | 3838 words

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The next day was tense. Faramir left Minas Tirith heading for Osgiliath and Aragorn restlessly rushed about the palace burning with impatience to talk to him, to beg for forgiveness. To do anything to see his Steward looking at him with such esteem and affection he looked at him earlier with again. However Faramir was absented all day and when he appeared in a town in the evening Éowyn, his wife, was with him.

The Ball was dazing. Ladies, dressed in expensive festive attire, sparkled with smiled and jewels while their cavaliers flied about trying to oblige.

Faramir with Éowyn approached the throne of the King.

“You Majesty,” said Faramir quietly as he lowered his head. Aragorn tried to catch his gaze but the Steward carefully avoided it. And all that stayed to do for Aragorn was to bow graciously his head in a silent greeting to the piercing look of Éowyn.

Aragorn was sitting at the head of a table wordlessly observing his courts who were joyfully talking to one another. Arwen was at his left hand but he didn’t notice the troubled looks that she periodically shot towards his direction. His own gaze constantly settled on an empty place at his right – the place of Gondor’s Steward. But Faramir was not there. In the morning after the ball, he had asked to go to Ithilien and Aragorn had found no reasons to refuse him in presence of his court. “In vain,” Aragorn thought, trying not to notice a weight that suddenly squeezed his chest, “you should delay him at any price. You are King.”

But now it was too late for anything to change and he dart a blank look at a guard that appeared in the door. The guard spoke something to livery and the last one quickly made his way to the King.

“Your Majesty,” he started quietly as he bowed, “her Highness the Princess of Ithilien sent a courier with a message that their troop was assaulted by bandits. His Highness Lord Faramir was seriously wounded.”

To say that Aragorn felt terrible in this moment meant to say nothing. He felt as if his entire world had suddenly turned over. He felt like all his life rolled down. And he didn’t need anyone else word anymore. All that he knew was that ‘Faramir was wounded. Heavily wounded’ and he was guilty of it. He felt, he knew, he should have prevented it.

With one sudden motion he stood up from the table not noticing as a dead silence fell in the hall and left. Arwen stood too and saying something tender to the courts headed for her husband.

“Estel, where are you going?”

“There,” he said but then turned around darting guilty look at her, “I’m so sorry, my love, but I have to be there.”

Arwen took his hand and gently squeezed it. “Then ride. Ride and May the Valar help you, my love.”

There he was laying, unmoved and unreceptive to the outer world, when Aragorn entered into the tent. Éowyn was silently crying, holding a hand of her husband.

“Éowyn,” Aragorn froze at the entry, feeling how painfully his heart squeezed from the sight of motionless body. “Tell me that he is not dead.”

“He is not dead,” Éowyn whispered through the tears, “but he is dying.” And she sobbed then loudly and hopelessly, leaning her head over Faramir’s chest. “What will come of us?”

Aragorn walked around bed and knelt, touching a brow of the young man with his hand. He was cold. So cold, that Aragorn felt as if a chilled wave of death passing through him. Life was leaving Faramir.

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Thank the author

The following people read the story, enjoyed it, and would like to thank the author: pinbot , waterwolf , Ingrid , dream.in.a.jar

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6 Comment(s)


NB: Comments span all chapters and may contain spoilers!

Oh Anastasya
It was absolutly lovely. You are a fantastic writer!!
Thank you so much for this story, I am truly touched moved by your kind words. You are very dear to me too

Love you always

— Ingrid    30 April 2010, 16:18    #

Dear Ingrid, you’re always too kind to me too. And I cannot wish better friend than you are for me.
I hope you are alright again.
Thank you very much!

— Anastassiya    30 April 2010, 17:41    #

Oh, Lord, how I’ve tortured myself over this! (laughs and shakes head) Nastya, you have no pity for your readers :)

I read the first two chapters a few days ago, and I was terrified to go on, like I’ve never before been terrified by a fic, thinking I knew what would happen, and knowing I could not deal with it.

But then I thought, no, get a hold of yourself and go face it. Silly me, I could have spared myself all the angst had I read it all on the first evening :)

You know, much as I was sorry for Aragorn, what with his stupid stubborn preconceptions totally ruining their first time and all his consequent guilt, it still feels like he deserved the pain of remorse, and that dreadful dream. Ah, where’s my mercy…? Well, he had to pay for all the nervous cells I’ve lost obsessing about Faramir dying (and dying like that, too)!

All that said, do I need to tell you I find this a wondrously powerful work? Although, my friend, you are tricksy, very tricksy indeed ;-)

December    22 September 2010, 23:22    #

Спасибо, моя милая December! У тебя просто замечательная привычка преувеличивать заслуги других людей, что очень греет душу. Мне, по крайней мере, согрела несомненно. А вот что касается шаловливости..)), уж не знаю, дорогая, кто из нас более шаловлив: ты, играющая на чувствах других людей и заставляющая постоянно гадать своих читателей, что будет в следующей части, или я?))
Спасибо тебе еще раз!

— Anastasiya    29 September 2010, 08:12    #

Батюшки, я и не знамечала за собой подобной привычки))

Да, конечно, спорный вопрос. Что жестче: обломывать читателя в его светлых надеждах, или вдруг делать счастливый конец там, где его и быть не могло? По-любому, мы стОим друг друга…)

Так вот, изначально-то вопрос был каков: что ты будешь делать, не имея возможности попросить прощения. Нда, вариантов-то не так чтобы много получается… Тут нашему бестолковому королю еще повезло, что был мальчик, на которого можно было изливать всю свою виноватую нежность)

December    29 September 2010, 16:58    #

Смейся, смейся, моя дорогая!
Я же говорила, что люблю хороший конец)). А то, что мы стОим друг друга… – это точно! ))

— Anastasiya    30 September 2010, 06:12    #

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