Faramir Fiction Archive

Out of Memory and Time (PG-13)

Written by Shireling

30 March 2008 | 58682 words

Chapter 10 – Hope Rekindled

Sam arrived at the Palace at sundown a few days after the rest of the Shire party, just as the company were coming together for the evening meal. He had only time to greet his children before getting washed and changed to join his hosts. He was greeted warmly, though Merry felt it necessary to register his disapproval at Sam’s dereliction of duty.

Sam was so keyed up with the knowledge that he held that he could barely eat. Rosie, ever attuned to his moods, watched and worried as he pushed his food around, his eyes constantly dancing from the King to Legolas and to the Lady Éowyn. At the end of the meal Rosie excused herself to attend to the baby and Sam escorted her to the nursery; without giving details, Sam reassured her and spent some time with his son before returning to the company.

By now the other guests were noticing Sam’s uncharacteristic behaviour. When he approached Éowyn, taking her hand and beaming at her bemused expression before hugging her and patting her hand, Merry was heard to enquire of Pippin if Sam had overindulged on wine during dinner. As the evening progressed the company dwindled until only Estel and Legolas and Sam remained. The King and the Elf watched Sam’s restless agitation until they could bear it no longer.

“Sam, whatever is the matter?” Legolas asked as he plucked the Hobbit from his pacing and sat him on a low stool between two fireside chairs. “I fear if you do not share your concerns soon you will explode!”

“Aye, you’re right… but now the time’s here I don’t rightly know where to begin…” Sam would have bounced up from his seat to continue pacing but for the two hands on his shoulders that kept him in place.

“Has this to do with Frodo?” Estel asked.

“Oh, no, Sire. Nothing to do with Mr Frodo.”

“Then is it to do with the Shire? With your inheritance of Bag End?”

“No! No, it is much more important than that. I love Bag End dearly, all the more so because it were Mr Frodo’s gift… but Bag End is just a building…”

“So if it is neither Bag End, nor Frodo, then your news must come from Lord Cirdan at the Havens?” Legolas prompted.

“Aye. Mr… I mean, Lord Cirdan entrusted me with a letter for you,” Sam explained, patting his waistcoat pocket.

“Would it not help if I read the letter, Master Gamgee!” Estel asked, trying to suppress his growing sense of exasperation.

“It would but Lord Cirdan and Mr Ranan…”

“You met Ranan?” Legolas interrupted.

“Who is this Ranan? Estel asked.

“You would know him as Radagast, Estel, but Ranan is one of the many names he has carried through the ages.” Legolas explained.

“Aye. It was Mr Ranan who found him, see,” Sam explained.

“Sam, you’re not making any sense. Start at the beginning and tell us your story,” Estel urged.

“Oh… Oh, right. I suppose I’m not telling this very well but it’s so incredible and Mr Ranan was concerned it would be a shock and they wanted me to try and tell you gentle like.”

“Sam! Tell us what?”

“Well, after I had done what I had to do at the harbour, Lord Cirdan invited me to break fast in the Hall with the rest of the community. Well, you can imagine, I hadn’t seen that many Elves together since Rivendell… it was a sight to make my heart sing. And I was just thinking on how Mr Frodo would have loved to see such a fine gathering when I noticed a stranger a ways off. He was dressed like the Elves and he had a high look to him but when I looked closer I realised he wasn’t an Elf at all.”

“And what was so special about him that drew your attention?” Legolas asked.

“Well, that was strange because he reminded me of someone… ’course the hair was different and the man was much thinner and a bit gaunt looking for all that his face was tanned. So I asked Lord Cirdan who he was and he named the man as Min.”

“An odd name! Did Lord Cirdan not offer his family name nor where he came from?”

“No, just Min. Seems the man was a stranger that Mr Ranan came across on his travels and who had need of Lord Cirdan’s care.”

“Radagast often gathers up waifs and strays on his travels, though they are usually four-legged or winged,” Legolas explained.

“Well, this wasn’t no animal and Lord Cirdan seemed particularly interested in my reaction to this man, Min.”

“He questioned you?”

“Aye. He pressed me on who he reminded me of but when I explained that the man was dead I thought they would let it rest. ‘Course, he could have been a relative, knowing that he had relatives in the south…”

“Sam, who did the man remind you of?” Estel asked against the sudden tightening in his chest.

“That’s why it seemed so impossible ’cause he reminded me of Captain Faramir.”

“What are you saying, Sam?” Estel demanded, his voice heavy with hurt and his face bleached of colour.

“Lord Cirdan explained that they had a suspicion that Min was from a noble background but that he had no memory of his past…”

“But was it him? Was it Faramir?” Estel was so distraught that he lifted Sam up until they were face to face.

“Aye, Sir. As I live and breath it was him, “ Sam said gently, scrambling from the King’s grasp to sit on the arm of his chair and take the King’s cold hands between his own small rough palms.

“Not dead… he’s not dead!” Estel chanted. Legolas was silent but his face was wet with tears of shock and joy.

“Not dead, Legolas. He’s not dead!”

“Yes, my friend, we are blessed indeed. I never imagined, after all this time, that our dear Little Ranger would be restored to us”

“Sire, Legolas. I haven’t finished my tale,” Sam said urgently.

“What more can there be to tell, Sam, our friend has been found!”

“No, Sire. I beg you , you must listen, please… it’s important!” Sam was becoming distressed. “There are reasons why Lord Cirdan wanted me to tell you this in person,” Sam said, concerned that in their joy over his news they had not fully understood the story. “Please, Mr Legolas, there is more I need to tell you, more you need to understand!”

With obvious effort they turned their attention back to Sam. “Forgive us, my friend; tell us the rest of your tale.”

“I did meet Captain Faramir but he didn’t recognise me,” Sam explained. “But seeing me was a real shock to him, he rushed away like he was suddenly taken ill and Mr Ranan had to go after him…”

“Go on, Sam.”

“He’s not the same, not as he was. Lord Cirdan explained some of it too me. Min… Mr Faramir had taken some really bad hurts… when Mr Ranan found him he was living alone in the wild with only a donkey for company… he was deaf and he had no memory of who he was or where he was from or what had happened to him. Oh, Sire, he so afeared he had committed some terrible treachery that he refused all offers to help him remember. He didn’t want to know his past for fear of the shame and disgrace his reappearance would bring to those who claimed kinship to him.”

“He was afraid… are we such monsters that he feared to come home,” Legolas choked.

“No Sir, you mustn’t think that, not of Lord Faramir… he doesn’t know where home is or who his family are. But Lord Cirdan was adamant that to have survived the wickedness done to him was all down to his courage and bravery.”

“They threw him in the river for dead after he had seen his whole patrol butchered before his eyes…” Estel whispered.

“Aye and he thought you were dead, Estel; his physical torment would have been as nothing to that thought.”

“Yes, and knowing Faramir he would have taken all the blame upon himself. No wonder his mind shut out such horror. Who else could have survived such torment?”

“So what now, Estel?” Legolas asked.

“Now we go and retrieve our errant Steward!”

“Please read Lord Cirdan’s letter before you make any decisions, Sire. He said he would help Lord Faramir to find his past. Please read what he has to say before you go,” Sam urged.

“Fear not, Sam. We will not rush in and risk undoing any progress Lord Cirdan has accomplished.”

“Thank you, Sire. Captain Faramir has been through so much.”

Estel read the letter and passed it to his Elven friend. “Samwise, Legolas and I will leave at dawn… yes with a small escort,” he said in an aside at his friend’s raised eyebrows. “Sam, I will explain all this to Arwen before I leave but I would ask that you help her to break the news to Éowyn, it will be a shock to her that Faramir is alive after all this time.”

If the duty Commander was surprised by the order to open the palisade gate an hour short of dawn, he concealed it well. The riders who exited the compound were the King and his Elven kin and a small guard detail. Only two others watched the departure of the King’s company; from the security of one of the wooden watchtowers the Queen and one of the noble Halflings gazed after the departing riders. When the travellers had disappeared from even keen Elvish sight the two exchange a hug.

“Sam, are you sure there is no mistake?” Arwen asked, brushing the dampness from her cheek.

Sam passed the queen a plain but spotless pocket handkerchief and squeezed her hand. “I saw him myself, My Lady. I am quite sure it was the Captain. He was much changed but I recognised him as soon as I was introduced to him.”

“Tell me, Sam. Tell me everything,” Arwen begged as they walked together towards the fenced kitchen garden. “Estel showed me Lord Cirdan’s letter but I still find it hard to comprehend. How did Faramir survive? He was thrown in the river for dead!” Arwen hadn’t been present at the trial of the two traitors but she had heard enough from Estel and Éowyn to know the broad details of Faramir’s torment at their hands.

“I don’t know much myself, My Lady. Lord Cirdan and his friend Ranan only knew snatches of what happened to him. Min, that is Lord Faramir, was rescued from the river by a ship’s crew and stayed with that same vessel when he recovered. When the ship was damaged by a storm he set out to travel the land on his own. Mr Ranan found him living in a cave by a great forest near the sea and persuaded him to leave his camp and travel to meet Lord Cirdan. From what I could tell, he had been at the Haven’s for a few months.”

“And he had no knowledge of his identity or his past?” Arwen asked.

“No, Ma’am. But Lord Cirdan was quite certain there was no artifice to his memory loss. And he was quite deaf when Mr Ranan found him… it was only Lord Cirdan’s special skills that gave him back a little hearing. He had been locked in a silent world ever since he was rescued and…”

“And what, Sam?”

“Well, Mr Cirdan explained that… well, that although Mr Faramir could recall no memory of the past he was greatly sure that he had committed some grave crime, some treachery, and that even should he remember his name or where he came from, that his return would bring only dishonour to his kin.”

“He saw Estel fall to an enemy arrow. It was by his actions and sure reflexes that Estel was saved from a fatal blow; if Faramir had not pushed Estel aside the arrow would likely have pierced his heart and not just his shoulder.”

Arwen and Sam sat together on a low wall in the herb garden, each lost in their own thoughts, each both happy and sad in equal measure at the prospect of their friend being restored to the ones who loved him; sad for the torment he had suffered and for the loneliness and anguish he had endured since he was so viciously torn from the life he had earned by duty and honour.

“Do you think he will be alright, Ma’am?” Sam asked. “Did I do right to be so quick in bringing news of him?”

“Sam, how could you have done otherwise? How could you have concealed this news, knowing how much we have all grieved over his loss?” Arwen said, gently.

“But, Ma’am, if just seeing me made him ill, how will it be when he sees someone who was so much closer and dearer to him?” Sam begged. “I know he had come to look on Legolas and Strider almost akin to brothers, as family… What if Lord Cirdan has not been able to reconcile him to his memories? What if, by my actions, I have made things worse for him?”

“Peace, Sam. I have complete faith in Lord Cirdan. He is an Elf of profound experience and wisdom. He also has his own considerable powers of healing. He will not expose Faramir to unnecessary risk. And do not forget that Estel has his own gifts; he has brought Faramir back from the brink in the past. He and Legolas did establish a special bond with Faramir when all feared that his experiences in the War and his dealings with his Father had damaged his spirits to the point that they feared he would never recover.”

“You are right, My Lady. I should not allow doubt to mar the joy at finding he is still alive. But, My Lady, I fear that Mr Strider was so excited by the news that he will be shocked when he sees what Lord Faramir is like now… he is not the same man that we all knew and loved.”

“Sam, if I have learned anything in my long life, it is that a person’s true nature will always shine through, no matter what trials they have to endure. We loved and respected Faramir for his honesty and gentleness of spirit, for his honour and wisdom, for his loyalty and courage and for his reticence and humility. He may not ever fully recover from his many ordeals but the real Faramir, our Faramir, will be restored to us… how could it be otherwise when there are so many who love him.” She said softly. “Come now, we must find Éowyn and break the news to her.”

The King and his escort pressed forward at a fast but steady pace as they galloped towards the sunrise. There was a barely concealed excitement to the King’s manner that communicated itself to the rest of the small entourage. Of the travellers only the King, Prince Legolas and the Elf who had accompanied Sam knew of their destination or purpose, even the King’s Elven brothers had no more knowledge than Captains Beregond or Damrod, but as the morning brightened their greater familiarity with the lands they now traversed gave them a clue as to their likely destination.

Not until mid morning did the party stop to rest the horses and to take refreshment. With a guard set, Estel called the Elves and the two Captains to him.

“I beg your forgiveness for pulling you from your beds at such short notice but I have received news of such import that it required nothing less than my immediate attention,” he explained.

“Estel, we can guess from our heading that we are making for the Havens…”

“You are correct, Elladan,” Estel confirmed to his brother.

“And are you going to enlighten us to the purpose of this early morning sojourn?” Elrohir asked. Beregond and Damrod had been in the company of the King and his brothers enough in the past that they were no longer shocked by the familial way in which the Elves chided their human sibling.

“How many ages of men does it take for Elves to master patience?” The King asked Legolas with a grin.

“Most of us attain that grace when we attain our majority but some…!” Legolas returned, “but, then, perhaps, it is their human heritage…!” he said, glancing at the Pedherel twins.

Ignoring the Prince’s teasing Elladan turned back to his brother. “What business can you have at the Haven’s, Estel?” The King and Legolas shared a knowing glance with the Elf who had accompanied Sam.

“Does it concern our Kin?” Elrohir asked with just a hint of apprehension in his voice. It was no secret to the Sons’ of Elrond that Lord Cirdan was gifted with the ability to communicate with Valinor, though none knew how this was accomplished. “Has he news of our Father?”

“Peace, brother. I am sure Lord Cirdan will tell us what news he has, if any, of our loved ones when we meet him,” Estel soothed, for he too grieved still for the departure of Lord Elrond and his retinue and for Gandalf and Frodo.

“Well if we are not going for news of those who have sailed, then what is the purpose of this sudden visit?”

“Does it have anything to do with Sam’s recent visit to the Haven’s?” Elladan asked.

“Yes. Sam delivered a letter from Lord Cirdan. Sam also had news for me, news of an unbelievable nature.”

“Sam seemed not to be distressed by his visit,” Elrohir offered.

“Aye. But not all shocks are unpleasant, brother,” Estel explained. “Sam encountered another visitor whilst a guest of Lord Cirdan; a visitor who had been in residence there for some time.”

“An Elf?”

“No, not an Elf, a man.”

“And what relevance has this man to you? Why was knowledge of his presence so urgent?”

“The young man had been brought to Lord Cirdan by Ranan, Gandalf’s brother wizard,” Estel explained.

“Ranan? You refer to Radagast the Brown?” Elladan queried.

“Yes, Ranan found this young man, Min, living alone in the forest of Eryn Vorn.”

“And who is this Min? What is his significance?”

“Min was a stranger, a refugee who had lost all knowledge of his past and his identity. Apparently he was named Min by the ones who rescued him. He was deaf and almost mute. Ranan learned that he had spent time following his recovery as a sailor aboard the ship of the sailors who had rescued him and had then left to travel the lands alone.”

“Estel, I beg you, get to the point!” Elrohir chided. Estel nodded to his brother but it was Legolas who moved to squat behind the two Captains, placing a hand on each of their shoulders

“Sire?” said Beregond hesitantly against the sudden knot of anxiety that had lodged in his throat.

“Beregond, Damrod, I asked specifically for you both to accompany us on this mission because of the nature of the information I have received,” The King explained. “There is no easy way to reveal this news but Sam recognised the stranger at the Haven’s.”

“And, Sire?”

“Beregond, Damrod… the man in Lord Cirdan’s care is our own Lord Faramir,” The King explained gently.

For the twins the news was a welcome surprise, but they had seen and experienced enough of life’s mysteries over the long course of their lives that they accepted the news with quiet but joyful equanimity but for the Captains it was too unexpected to be immediately recognised or reconciled. Both men had grieved long for their lost Captain and comrade. After a moment’s shocked silence Damrod staggered to his feet and lurched away. Beregond would have gone after his friend but Legolas detained him.

“Give him a moment, my friend. Give him a few moments to absorb this wonderful news; he will come to no harm.”

“Are you sure there is no mistake, Sire? Beregond asked, brushing a hand over his own damp cheeks.

“Samwise was quite certain and, in his letter, Lord Cirdan explained that Sam’s identification had only confirmed his own suspicions as to his guest’s identity.”

“How can this be, Sire? He was dead when his tormentors threw his body into the river… we all heard their testimony!”

“I do not doubt that they believed him to be dead but Faramir, in the past, has proved to have a tenacious hold on life. He surely has the favour of the Valar.”

“Well, they have an odd way of proving it,” Beregond said bitterly.

“It is not wise to question they wisdom of the Valar,” Legolas chided gently.

“You may think of them as you will, Sire. But my Lord suffered more than a man can be expected to bear before and during the war… to then have his peace and happiness snatched away in such a vile manner… excuse me, Sire, I need to check on Captain Damrod.” Beregond whirled away, his thoughts swimming. Estel and Legolas had no option but to allow the shattered Captain to follow after his comrade.

“Are we doing the right thing, Legolas? Perhaps we should have waited for further word from Lord Cirdan before we attempted this journey.”

“Could you have waited?” Legolas asked and the look in Estel’s eyes told him that he could not.

“What if he doesn’t know us?”

“Do not borrow trouble, brother,” Elladan said, “I have confidence in Lord Cirdan’s gifts… we will get the young one back even if it takes longer than you would like. He has been gone from us for nearly three years, a few more days or weeks will not matter… have faith, little brother.”

When the Royal party arrived at the gateway to the Haven’s Lord Cirdan and Ranan were there to greet them. Estel had to restrain his anxious questions while the official greetings were completed but he could not keep his eyes from searching for the figure they had waited so long to see.

“Peace, Elessar,” Cirdan coaxed. “I know you have many questions but I would ask you to rein in your curiosity a while longer. You are all weary and dusty from your journey; come forth and allow us to see to your refreshment and comfort.”

“Forgive me, My Lord. I should know better than to behave as an excited child awaiting the Yule spirit.”

“You are but a child to me and your excitement is to be expected.”

“But, Faramir… ?”

“Peace, your Steward is here and quite safe,” Cirdan assured him, gesturing that the party allow themselves to be escorted down towards the heart of the harbour.

Later, after the King’s party had washed off the dust of the trail, Estel, Legolas and the two Captains were escorted to a small audience chamber to meet with Lord Cirdan.

“Now, child, you may ask your questions,” Cirdan said to Estel.

“How is he? When may we see him?”

Cirdan sighed. “How much did Sam tell you?”

“Little beyond what was in your letter… that Faramir was here, that he remembered nothing of his past… that he is much altered,” Estel explained.

“Samwise spoke truly. Young Min has suffered greatly and I suspect his suffering has left him profoundly changed from the young man you remember.”

“Does he still not know who he is, Sire?” Damrod asked.

“He accepts that he is Faramir but he does not remember that persona nor can he yet think of himself as other than Min.”

“And his memories?” Legolas asked. “Does he remember what happened to him?”

“I have helped him to remember those last few hours but it has been a slow and very painful process for him and I dare not rush it… the mind is a fragile instrument and his has been sorely tested,” Cirdan explained.

“And what of his physical hurts, Sire?” Beregond asked. “Is he incapacitated?”

“Physically he is quite strong and able. I have had some success in helping to lessen the dreadful scaring he suffered and he now has a small degree of hearing. He has developed a surprising ability to lip-read and has some hand signals that he has been teaching us to aid our communication.”

“Aye, I can believe that, Sire,” Damrod explained, “Captain Faramir introduces a system of hand signals to the Rangers to help us pass messages without alerting the Haradrim scouts when he first took command at Henneth Annûn.

“That explains why he is so comfortable with it as a means of communication.”

“How has he survived this long on his own, My Lord?” Beregond asked. Cirdan told them all he had learned of Faramir’s life since he was rescued by the crew of the Grey Swan up until Sam’s revelations as to his identity.

“Can we see him?” Legolas asked when the Elf Lord had finished his tale.

“I’m afraid not,” the Lord said sadly.

“Bur, Sire…”

“My Lord…”

“It is not my wish to keep you from him but Min’s own request… He is not yet ready to see you.”

“But we can help.”

“I’m sure you believe so but I offered Min sanctuary here long before we knew of his identity. He has now called on that promise and I cannot, will not, betray his wishes in this matter… it would risk undermining everything we have achieved thus far.”

“Why will he not see us?”

“It is complicated and I am not sure he realises his own heart in the matter. For nearly three years he has hardened his heart against his own past, convincing himself that what he had done was so terrible that it should remain buried.”

“But we know he committed no crime or error!”

“As we have told him repeatedly but he needs longer to make his peace with the fact.”

“Surely if we tell him ourselves…” Legolas started.

“He believed he was responsible for your death, Estel,” The Elf Lord explained. “His attackers tormented him with news of your death even while they tortured him and he witnessed all his men being executed… he feels he can never atone for what he caused to happen.”

“He was not responsible for their deaths or my injury… he saved my life!”

“Sire, My Lords, may we be excused?” Beregond requested. It was clear that the two men were distressed by the Lord’s announcements and that the strain of the day’s revelations had hit the men hard, though Damrod appeared less enthusiastic about leaving the discussion than his comrade.

Beyond the door he rounded on his superior. “Why did you want to leave? Surely there is more we can yet learn!”

Beregond ushered him out towards the harbour. “Lord Cirdan will not go back on his promises to Lord Faramir and it is my belief that he will feel compelled ask us to honour the spirit of that promise!”

“And…”

“And if we had stayed we would have been bound by that oath.”

“You mean to go against the Elf Lord’s wishes?”

“Damrod, how long have you known Faramir?”

“Since he first graduated from the Academy. Commander Dariel requested that I be appointed as his mentor when he first arrived at Henneth Annûn; he was younger than was usual for new draftees to the Rangers but given his status and his exceptional skills with a bow… but he was no more than a boy… too young even to have fluff on his chin,” Damrod explained.

“Well, Lord Cirdan has known him only months and, meaning no disrespect, but the King and Prince Legolas knew him for less than a year. I watched him grow to manhood and worked closely with him with the White Company. We know him better than anyone and I think we can safely claim the right to help him as we see fit!”

“We have no authority?”

“I claim the authority of friendship.”

“We must exercise caution or we could do more harm than good,” Damrod cautioned.

“I do not propose rushing in heedlessly but I will not be marginalised if the progress is too slow.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“That we watch and wait and see how the situation progresses. It may be that knowing we are here will hasten Faramir’s recovery. But there is nothing we may do tonight, so we might as well enjoy the Lord’s hospitality.”

“I hate to think that Faramir is so close and yet still out of reach.”

“He is alive and he is safe and one way or another we will get him back!” Beregond vowed.

Lord Cirdan left his two Royal guests. His request had been met with reluctant and begrudging agreement and he recognised that Estel and Legolas needed time to accept the limitations imposed upon them. The Elf Lord’s heart was heavy as he made his way to the healing halls where Ranan was keeping Min company.

The atmosphere in the chamber was as heavy as the Elf Lord’s heart. The leaden silence had nothing to do with his patient’s deafness and everything to do with his state of mind. Min had retreated into himself, worn out by the harrowing nature of his few returned memories. As Lord Cirdan entered Min was at the window staring out into the night, though his troubled mind took in none of the views that normally brought him comfort. His posture told of the huge burden that oppressed him. His withdrawal was complete; his hand, cupping his good ear, was pressed against the casement deliberately blocking what little hearing he had.

“You have told him The Elessar has arrived?” Cirdan asked Ranan as he poured three small glasses of Miruvor.

“He saw them arrive,” Ranan explained.

“And what was his reaction?”

“As you see! He has not spoken except to insist that he doesn’t want to meet them.”

“I have explained the situation to Estel and Legolas and the two Captains.”

“And will they abide by his wishes?”

“Estel and Legolas both gave their word not to seek him out… I had no such promise from the Captains.”

“_Oh?_”

“Aye. They had already retired for the evening.”

“What are you planning, my devious friend?”

“I am planning nothing… though you know how impatient these mortals can be. I doubt if our two trusty warriors will tolerate this impasse for long.”

“You think it wise to let them interfere?”

“Their history with Faramir stretches back a long way, especially young Damrod; they served together as Rangers and Damrod is one of only a handful of survivors of that doomed brigade… they share a bond of hardship and adversity that runs deep. I believe them best placed to help Min to reconnect with his past.

“Do you doubt Estel’s influence over Faramir?” Ranan queried.

“No. I understand from Legolas that Estel had become almost a father figure to him in the first few months of their acquaintance but Faramir experienced some difficulties in seeing beyond Estel’s sovereignty… recall how Min reacted to his perceived treachery… guilt and honour and duty are bound so tightly to his nature that he has rebuilt those barriers that Legolas and Estel had worked so hard to dispel… add to that the abuse and torture he was subjected too… he no longer deems himself worthy. I begin to doubt that he will ever truly recover,” Lord Cirdan said sadly

“You will offer him permanent sanctuary here?”

“If required, yes. I hope it will not be necessary. I have not given up hope that he will return to his family and loved ones.”

“You wish to work with him now?” Ranan asked. “I am not sure that he is fit for more revelations.”

“I must. To retreat now would only make starting over even more difficult.” The Elf Lord lifted a small silver kettle from a hook over the hearth and poured hot water over a dish of crushed herbs; he stirred the concoction and strained the liquid into a dosing cup and added a measure of Miruvor. Only when the room was organised to his satisfaction did he approach the silent figure at the window, alerting the youngster to his presence with a light touch to his shoulder. When he received no response he gently turned the passive youngster around to face him. Min’s broken, haunted expression all but undid the healer’s resolve.

“No more, please,” Min begged, trying to back away, only to find retreat impossible.

“Peace, Min. Hush now, all will be well; you must trust me.”

“Please… please,” Min wept as he was swept, reluctantly, into the Elf Lord’s embrace.

“The worst is over, Young one.” Cirdan whispered against his ear.

“Why can you not let me be? You promised me!”

“Do not struggle so. You are quite safe but I am going to insist that we continue to unravel your past. You cannot continue to live this half-life.”

“I am happy here!”

“And where will you go from here when the memories again begin to plague you to rootless wandering? Will you run back to the sea or wander the Northlands alone?”

“Why would I leave here?”

“Because your heart wants answers… even if your mind yet rejects them. It is human nature; your human lives are too short and precious to squander in mystery and deceit.”

“Who am I deceiving?” Min demanded.

“Yourself, my friend. You are deceiving yourself and you are depriving your friends of a greatly missed companion.”

“If you hadn’t told them they would have continued to believe me dead. Why reopen old wounds?”

“It is done now. Fate sent you here and engineered the discovery of your identity. If you cannot trust me, then trust that the Valar had a hand in your deliverance.”

“You do not play fair, My Lord.”

“I play the hand I am given. Now drink this and let us begin.”

For two days the visitors to the Haven’s fretted against their enforced inactivity. Each day Lord Cirdan spent hours closeted in the healing halls with Min and at the end of these painful and emotionally taxing sessions he would report back to them on the progress he was making. He also quizzed them on aspects of Faramir’s history so that he could nudge and guide Min into retrieving aspects of his memories that lay so deeply buried that he would not have accessed them on his own. In this process Damrod and Beregond had the greatest insights to offer. Not all the memories were bad, but remembering his family; his mother, his father and his beloved brother brought back also the agony of their loss. The war, the decimation of his Rangers, the manner of his Father’s death, all of these had to be relived and remembered, as did his elevation to the Stewardship, his Princedom and his betrothal to Éowyn. Once the floodgates of memory were breached that past was thrust upon him in bewildering confusion.

After three years of suppressing his memories and his emotions, these revelation piled one upon the other until he could no longer contain the pain. The howls of grief, the plaintive keening, echoed around the harbour and cast a pall of grief over the residents.

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