Home » Fiction

Scattered Leaves (PG-13) Print

Written by Eldalie

21 April 2010 | 41380 words

Title: Scattered Leaves
Author: Eldalie
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Faramir
Disclaimer: Middle Earth and all that is in it belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. And I don't think anybody wants to argue about that.<br>,<a href="http://mefawards.net"><img src="http://www.faramirfiction.com/images/158.jpg" width="290" height="150" /></a>

NOMINATED FOR MEFA AWARDS 2010 Six years before the War of the Ring, Faramir patrols Ithilien, and there meets Miriel, one of the Elves that used to live there before Sauron tainted the woods with his presence again. Miriel is back out of nostalgia for her birthplace, but has left her heart North in Mirkwood, with Legolas… or will the mortal Captain of Gondor, this Child of Men, make her forget everything that is past?


[ all pages ]

Chapter 12

Edge

The days that followed were covered in a mist. The edges of things were blunter, the talk subdued. The Rangers laughed no more, nor talked about their homes. Their hearts were locked into stone, their faces set with grim resolve. Slaughter was their outlet, and hunting Orcs became their only pleasure. The mourning of a warrior for his captain is a bloody thing to watch.

Faramir wandered far from me, in regions I could not access. I had no siblings; I knew nothing of such a love, and such a loss. Sometimes he would come to me, late at night, and lie in my arms unsleeping till the dawn. No words would be spoken, and he would rise with dry eyes. His eternal sadness thickened into a hard pain, and I feared for him.

I feared, for I could see that all hope was extinguished in his eyes, and that he considered himself alone, alone without relief. With all the warmth that remained in me I tried to reach him, and make him feel the love that had kept me back. But the spirits of Men are chained to their flesh, and when they grieve the chains become stronger. No thought, no words could pierce the armour his grief had woven around him, and touching him I felt I was touching stone.

It was with this uncertainty hanging heavy upon me that I received his request to lead a party of Men in the Southernmost part of Ithilien, waiting for the convoy of Haradrim that scouts had reported to be fast approaching.

“Try at your best to hinder their progress, but do not show yourself. They will have scouts or Mordor guides, and if you can, take them down. Keep them from the main road, herd them into the wood. When they have taken the path we desire, lead the Men back.”

I nodded my agreement, and he turned as if to leave.

“Faramir,” I called in a whisper. He paused, but did not turn. I hardened my voice, pretended my next words were not a plea. “Do not forsake prudence.”

“War is never a prudent thing, my lady.”

He left. As the Men of my party prepared themselves I sought out Mablung, one of the most experienced among the Rangers. Of him I requested in a stern tone that he watch over his Captain, my expressionless countenance a frail mask for my unspoken fear. He looked at me long, before answering: “You are of a strange people, Mìriel of the Elves. But you seem to understand. None of us shall leave our captain unprotected, even from himself. Good hunting in the South.”

You are of a strange people, Mìriel of the Elves. Perhaps he was right. But indeed, I was beginning to understand. Life as lived by Men is a raw and a vivid thing, such as Elves may have only known thousands of years ago, in forgotten ages before wisdom became too much and we began to fade.


The Mûmakil marched past us, filing into the glade with a crashing sound. The ground shook, echoing of their mighty steps. When the last one had passed, I nodded to my second in command that we could leave. Silently we disappeared among the trees, leaving behind us the knifed carcass of the Southrons’ last Orcish guide.

We had approached their convoy during the night, driven them away from the road with arrows. They had not been able to find us, we had taken down their tracking Orcs first. Trusting in the sheer strength of their war mounts they had taken to the wood, smashing their way open. In the confusion of their retreat seizing what remained of their Mordor scouts had been easy. The duty we had set out to accomplish was done.

We started on our way back by other ways, and only when the evening came I gave order to make camp. As the Men let down their tension for a moment I could not sit, but climbed a tree, disappearing from their sight. They thought I was scouting, and heeded me not.

In truth, I sought the peace of the trees, the soothing charm of their still, ancient life. I sought the openness of the sky and the brilliance of undying stars, diamonds set above all darkness. I sat on a high branch contemplating their beauty, and sang under my breath, however painfully. Stilted had been my voice since Boromir’s death, a dark presentiment choked it in my throat. I struggled to find again the consolation and power of the notes, but rarely could my will attain them.

Too soon my song died. The stars were dimmed. During the day a conscience of evil unknown had been growing in my mind, and I had shut it away, an ignored threat during the simple dangers of war and ambush. But now that my limbs were set at rest, now that my mind reached out to the beauty untouchable of the World, now I perceived it more clearly. A new menace had reached us, and it was shapeless and black.

Not many of the Eldar can see the future; but all of us can feel the change. Something loomed ahead I had no power to stop or steer, and all of our fates hung on the balance. The edge of doom was now sharp. That night I did not sleep, I did not leave the treetops. The leaves whispered to me of the same evil that made the air tremble, but they could not tell me what it was. Unknown to us, nameless, unknown. The ground remembers, the rocks feel fear.

I watched the clouds gather, and the stars twinkled one last time in farewell before being cloaked. A dull dawn climbed over the edge of the world with tired hands, and the birds were silent. The trees had spoken, the danger was near. A tension unnamed thickened the pale light, and I descended from the tree to find a messenger from Faramir, tired after a long run.

“The Captain calls you. Osgiliath is under siege.”

He had not finished speaking that the Men were standing, their weapons at hand.

“We march.”

I went before them, my feet quick over the earth, my mind pondering, unquiet. When I looked behind at the file of Rangers following me I saw on their faces a warlike spirit awoken. Osgiliath was their last defence; beyond the river, only a plain. And then, the Tower of Guard.

As we crossed Ithilien the pain of leaving it rose inside me, it clutched at my heart with long claws. It beat, it hurt. Doubt tried to shake me, bearing with it a fear that I had not felt before. What if you fell far from your wood, Mìriel. What if your last blood was spilt over a sterile ground that remembers you not. Elf of the forest, would you die defending the ruins of a city of stone?

There was that evil in the air, and it tempted to rash decisions, despairing counsels. I resisted. If my doom awaits, I shall meet it. If this be my destiny, I shall embrace it. My choice is made, my lot cast. I won’t abandon the Men of Gondor. I glanced around, tearing my spirit once more as I looked at tree, stream, glade. I kept marching. What if this were the last time, Mìriel. What if the darkness spoke of your death.

I did not listen. I quickened my pace, led the Men forward. Mordor was strong that day, its hosts had moved. The air was tainted, treason closer than ever before. In such hours shall hearts be tested, their true fiber uncovered. Faramir, I thought. Could you stay behind, could you let him fight alone? Green eyes, and a promise. But my path had been clear long before I gave my pledge.

One last step, and I had reached the edge of the wood. I led the Men out, marching into the naked plain.


Faramir was waiting for us on the outskirts of the destroyed city. As I came face to face with him I saw that something had changed, that his eyes sparkled with a feverish light. And yet it was not joy that lit his features, but a grim decision, and a brooding triumph that held no beauty. He directed the Rangers to their companions, and taking my hand led me to a house most of whose walls were still standing.

Inside, the strangest sight awaited me. Guarded by two Rangers there stood three small creatures. Two of them were dressed with cloaks of Elvish fashion; one was well fed, with a plump face that seemed made for merrier times than this. The other was pale, and he looked ill. He slumped against his companion, his eyes half-closed.

“Halflings,” I murmured, and Faramir beside me nodded.

“From a place called Shire, far in the West. You knew of them?”

“Not of the Shire. Some of their kind lived North, along the river…some of my people have met them. And yet I thought they were all gone, when I was still young.” I looked at him: “Why do you guard them? They are harmless creatures.”

“Not all of them.”

He beckoned and I looked, more closely now, at the third one. His height was similar to that of the Halflings, and perhaps he had been one, once; but something terrible had happened to him since, mutilating him, consuming him, corrupting his shape into something fearful. A bottomless misery and an equal malice fought on the features of the third prisoner, and his wide eyes were filled with a despair such as I had never guessed could exist. A despair devoid of dignity, the very end of all that is good and luminous in a living creature in Arda, however marred.

A small, pitiful creature, a living thing ruined by the mischief of the Enemy… A crawling, debased animal it would look to you, and yet deadly can be his skills, grown murderous under the Shadow…

The words of the Dunadàn, so many springs before.

“Faramir – “

“Follow me.”

He went out again, and I followed, however reluctantly. The third prisoner had cowed away from me, spitting and cursing at the sight of an Elf; and the pale Halfling seemed too far from this world to stir. But his companion had sought my eyes with his, and as Faramir disappeared beyond the door he called: “Lady…”
One of the guards bid him to keep silent. I went out quickly. Faramir’s face was still under the ill light of his excitement, his voice was full of it.

“We found them yesterday, after we dealt with the Southrons. Travellers in these ill-times…only the two Halflings, though, at first. We took them prisoners. When questioned they answered they had been till not long ago with a company of other seven. One of them was Boromir.”

His face clouded at the name, the grief came back in his eyes. But he shook it away.

“They had parted before he died, they knew not how he had met his end. They would not reveal why they travelled this way. We kept them in the Secret Chamber. At night their companion, that strange creature, was caught in the Forbidden Pool. And from him I learnt what these Halflings carry.”

No he came closer to me, his voice barely above a whisper: “Legends talked of it, but they also said it had been lost. The One Ring of Sauron.”

Wonder filled me, but also a fear that was cold and harsh. In the bleak light over the ruined city the evil unnamed that had poisoned the forest was now revealed. As I looked into Faramir’s eyes I saw madness. Many Rings were made, Elven Rings to protect, Dwarvish Rings to hoard; but the One Ring had as only purpose power. Power; the thing Men shall crave to their undoing. The Man King Isildur had fallen because of that Ring, and now in the eyes of my love the same curse was repeated. I shook my head violently: “Faramir! Where did they carry it?”

He shrugged. “They said it had to be destroyed…but no. This is a gift. A mighty gift for Minas Tirith, and an unexpected aid for its Steward.”

Then his eyes sparkled, and love and compassion tore at me as I understood. Never would Faramir seize the Ring for himself; but for his father this would ransom and repay all his years of unworthiness in his eyes. I looked at him, my mortal, my frail love, and I wished I could give my eternity, my skill, all that I was to lift this endless pain from his shoulders. But such wishes are made not to be granted. The edge of doom was sharper than even my fear had guessed.

“Faramir – “

Words of wisdom and counsel were ready upon my tongue, in my heart the resolve to stand before this folly ere it were too late. But before I could utter a word a small voice, pitched to a height of anger and indignation, interrupted me: “You can’t take the Ring! It will ruin you and twist you, as it did with your brother!”

We turned. On the threshold of the house, a guard that tried to restrain him, stood the plump Halfling, his cheeks flaming. Faramir’s eyes were crossed by uncertainty and grief, and emboldened by his silence the small, valiant creature went on: “He tried to take the Ring! He swore he would protect my master, but he –”

The Halfling, whose words gave me hope for Faramir as they added to my mourning for his brother, could never finish. For in that moment a fell screech filled the empty sky, and a shadow fell like a blanket over our hearts, while one cry echoed through the defenders of Osgiliath:

“Nazgûl!”

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/scattered-leaves. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!


29 Comment(s)

Ooh, you’ve got me intrigued now. I’m a little nervous to how Legolas might break her heart, but that’s just because he’s so cute. Faramir is my favorite though, and I cannot wait to see how he charms her.
Really good beginning, can’t wait for more.

— Anna    Thursday 25 February 2010, 19:02    #

Love it very much. You are gifted with a poet’s sense of words, your words seems to come alive on my screen and I love it.
So beautiful
Thank you so much

— Fëawen    Friday 26 February 2010, 11:01    #

Very well done, Eldalie! I agree complitely with Fëawen, you are truly gifted! Write more!

— Anastasiya    Wednesday 10 March 2010, 17:36    #

Thank you so much, everybody! I’m very glad you like the story. I’ll try to update asap. And as you can see, Ithilien (and a certain Captain) are now drawing nearer…

— Eldalie    Wednesday 10 March 2010, 17:40    #

Oh God what a torture you put me through.
It is so wounderful that my whole body shivers, in a very good way.
This morning started of like shit, but now I sit here with smile on my lips
Thank you for this

— Fëawen    Monday 15 March 2010, 8:07    #

Thank you! Glad I helped making your day better. The Valar know Mondays are terrible as they are…

Everybody else: the road to Ithilien is taken. Faramir incoming.

— Eldalie    Monday 15 March 2010, 10:53    #

What a truly wonderful tale you are weaving here. I very much enjoy Miriel’s spirit. I admire her being able to leave that gorgeous elf behind. However, nothing could make me choose anyone or anything over Faramir. If only I were given the burden of that choice. I cannot wait for the fair future Prince of Ithilien to arrive. My heart shall wait impatiently for his presence. Ha ha

— Kelly    Monday 15 March 2010, 22:57    #

No!!! Don’t stop, not now. Don’t leave us hanging just as our beloved Faramir is coming aboard :)
Have you made it your personal quest to push me over the edge of what I can take?
Just kidding, but you write so beautiful and alive. Not to mention the intrigue, very interesting and nice. Love it more and more by each chapter.

— Ingrid    Wednesday 17 March 2010, 16:14    #

Ahah, am I not evil? giggles Seriously, though. I know, my fingers tingle at the idea of writing about our ranger (not that writing about Legolas was a strain. By no means. 0:)) but I’m sure we all want a nice chapter about that. I’ll give you a little sneak peak: the title will be: ‘Man and Elf’. Stay tuned…P.S. ‘Nimîr’ is the Nùmenorean word for Elf. Thanks to the fantastic site Merin Essi ar Quenteli! for providing it.

— Eldalie    Wednesday 17 March 2010, 16:20    #

Ugh! somebody get a me a rope! What a way to leave me hanging! I must have more. I am waiting sooooo impatiently.

— Kelly    Wednesday 17 March 2010, 19:32    #

Girls, I would feel bad about letting you wait…weren’t I already started on next chapter. Have patience…:)

— Eldalie    Wednesday 17 March 2010, 19:37    #

OMG!!!!
I am crying my eyes out here. Blow my nose and wipe the tears of my cheeks I have said it before but I must say it again. What an exceptionell auther you are. The way you build it up, the way you describe everything, so alive that it seems to be happening before my own eys. And the words, my God, the words. Beautiful does not give it justice. I have not been able to read for a while, exame time and sickness took all my energy. I was only suppose to check if something new had come up and find FIVE new chapters. I was suppose to have been in the therapy room today, but this was far, far better. Thank you so much. You have no idea what joy you give me
Hugs

— Ingrid    Sunday 28 March 2010, 16:42    #

Thank you Ingrid! Now I’m the one who’s crying. blows her nose blushing Actually, I’m already working on the next chapter. Hope it’ll be up to standard! I feel quite inspired these days, so I’m pushing it. :) Hope your exams went all right.

— Eldalie    Sunday 28 March 2010, 16:45    #

Thank you, thank you, thank you. It was perfect, as always. You do know how to make a girl cry, don’t you?

“No thought, no words could pierce the armour his grief had woven around him, and touching him I felt I was touching stone.”

Such a beautiful description, it spoke so clearly. Oh Valar, how I wish that I had your talent of writing. Thank you so much.
Gives a big hug

(My exams went fine 110/110 on the theatre history test, 148/150 on the art history test, 196/200 on the ancient religions test and 118/130 on the math test. I am a bit disappointed, I could have done better, but no use crying over spilled milk. Right?)

— Ingrid    Monday 29 March 2010, 9:45    #

Thanks again, Ingrid! :)

(Wow for your exams. WHich spilled milk, excuse me? Those are fantastic results! Wish I had that talent. ;))

— Eldalie    Monday 29 March 2010, 9:54    #

Thank you so much for this wonderful chap. I am siting here with tears streaming down my face. You say that you wish for MY talent. Pleace, I would give it all up if I could write like you do. My talents can be read and learnt, but yours come from your heart.
Thanks again. No I will hopefully have pleasent dreams, pretending I am Mìriel, and loved by Faramir :)

— Ingrid    Wednesday 7 April 2010, 23:35    #

Thank you, Ingrid! Your comments are always very beautiful to read. Glad this came out well. You can’t have a romance without DA love scene, now, can you? ;) Thanks again!

— Eldalie    Thursday 8 April 2010, 0:21    #

I am very late in posting here and I apologize. I have been anxiously reading each new post and appreciate how quickly you update. I am totally enthralled in this story. I love it. While I read this story I can visualize it perfectly. Its like I’m in the center and it is happening all around me. Thank you.

— Kelly    Monday 12 April 2010, 22:33    #

Thank you Kelly! Please don’t apologize. Glad you like it, and hope you keep enjoying. :) Thanks again!

— Eldalie    Tuesday 13 April 2010, 5:56    #

Oh my! My stomach is in knots! My heart is racing. I so can’t wait to find out what happens. Thank the Valar you never make me wait long to find out.

— Kelly    Tuesday 13 April 2010, 18:22    #

Glad you liked it, Kelly! Hope you keep enjoying. I’ll be writing asap; next one is a delicate chapter indeed. ;)

— Eldalie    Tuesday 13 April 2010, 21:22    #

OMG! I thought my heart was pounding before! These last two have me on the edge of my seat! Wow!I can hardly wait for more! I so volunteer to take care of our dear sweet Faramir now that Miriel has left him. hee hee

— Kelly    Monday 19 April 2010, 15:59    #

Thanks for the comment, Kelly! By the way, chapter 19 was the second-last. Epilogue incoming…;)

— Eldalie    Monday 19 April 2010, 19:24    #

I am now well and truly drained. This has been quite the roller coaster ride. I enjoyed it very very much. It did not end the way I had hoped. However, in the end I think now that you knew best and it was as it should be. Thank you!

— Kelly    Wednesday 21 April 2010, 18:47    #

Thank you, Kelly! I know, I supposed we would all have liked her to be with Faramir. But there just was no way, given the person Mìriel is, and the kind of world they live in. However I’m glad you still liked it! Thank you.

— Eldalie    Wednesday 21 April 2010, 19:31    #

A litle late incoming- but i loved this. you wrote so perfectly! i really could feel every emotion Miriel, Faramir and Legolas felt… thats rare :) thanks.

— Liana    Thursday 24 June 2010, 13:18    #

Thank you! I’m very glad you liked it. :)

— Eldalie    Thursday 24 June 2010, 13:22    #

Thank you! I am very glad you liked it.

— Eldalie    Tuesday 24 August 2010, 16:15    #

Subscribe to comments | Get comments by email | View all recent comments


Comment

  Textile help

All fields except 'Web' are required. The 'submit' button will become active after you've clicked 'preview'.
Your email address will NOT be displayed publicly. It will only be sent to the author so she (he) can reply to your comment in private. If you want to keep track of comments on this article, you can subscribe to its comments feed.

Filter

Hide | Show adult content

Adult content is shown. [what's this?]

Adult content is hidden.
NB: This site is still for adults only, even with the adult content filter on! [what's this?]

Translate

  • DE
  • ES
  • JP
  • FR
  • PT
  • KO
  • IT
  • RU
  • CN