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Seeking (G) Print

Written by Shireling

27 June 2005 | 45981 words

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Chapter 6 >

Estel has declared tomorrow a rest day and, in honour of the fact, we have gathered in the Queen’s garden to plan how we will spend our hours of freedom. Estel and Faramir are due to join us shortly; they have been down to the barracks to observe the new recruits under training. It was Faramir’s idea to invite the King, a way of helping the Sovereign to become more familiar with the officers and the men under his command. Estel had jumped at the chance, always eager to get away from the mountain of paperwork and tedious whining of his more odious councillors.

We had both hoped that his spending time with Faramir in a more relaxed and informal atmosphere might help to ease the formality with which the Steward interacted with him but I fear our plan has not proved fruitful. When they return to the garden Estel catches my eye and with a slight shake of the head informs me that nothing has changed; indeed I can see from the way that Faramir is pacing restlessly along one of the outer paths that he is anything but relaxed.

“What happened, Estel?” I asked, as we both watched the clearly agitated Steward stomping a rhythmic trail to and fro; ten steps one way, ten steps back.

“I know not! I thought the visit had gone well. The training session was satisfactory and the troops well prepared for the Graduation Ceremony in a few weeks. The men obviously hold Faramir in great respect and affection; he was constantly greeted by old comrades asking after him.”

“And yet something has clearly upset him!” I remarked.

“I know. He seemed composed while we were at the barracks; it was as we were making our way back up through the city that I became aware of his discomfiture.”

As we spoke I observed Frodo approach Faramir and address him, stalling his pacing with a hand on his arm. Faramir pulled away with a curt reply and Frodo’s face fell, a look of puzzled bewilderment at his friend’s reaction. Faramir was immediately contrite and set about making amends to the little Ring-bearer and after a few moments conversation Frodo made his way back to Sam, a sad thoughtful expression on his face.

“Please, I beg you… do not say it!” Faramir hissed without looking at me.

I wasn’t even aware that he had registered my presence. He was standing at the balustrade, his white-knuckled grip grinding his fingers into the rough white stone as he gazed out into the distance.

“Don’t say what, my friend?”

He sighed and allowed his fists to fall to his side, still keeping his face turned away from me. “Are you well, Faramir? Are you alright, Faramir? Can I get you anything, Faramir? Are you too warm? Too Cold? In pain? Should you be riding today? Have you exercised today? Have you changed your socks, FARAMIR!” he all but yelled. “If one more person asks me if I am alright I will personally hang them by their ankles over the edge of this balcony and see how long it takes them to hit the plain below! … I am not a child, I do not need a keeper and I just wish to be-be left alone!”

He turned to me and I was staggered by the raw anger in his eyes. I did not rise to the bait, I kept my words and tone gentle. I reached for his hands and unfurled his clenched fists, rubbing at the crescent shaped indentations where his nails had gouged into his palms.

“Actually, I was going to ask you what Frodo had said to incite your ire but given your little ‘outburst’ I suspect he just enquired after your wellbeing… .as friends do!” I chided him gently. It was as if my words had deflated all of his anger, leaving only shame.

“Aye, I’m sorry. I have apologised to him… it was nothing personal… it was just the last straw! It was unforgivable… I should not have been so hard on him.”

“I’m sure Frodo, more than any other would understand your predicament, Faramir. He has had to endure more than his fair share of well-meaning, if not altogether welcome, attention.” I said dropping his hands but not moving from his side. “What has brought on this sudden fit of aggravation, Faramir? Has something particular upset you?” He shook his head as if not trusting his voice. He pressed his thumb and forefinger against his closed lids, seeking strength from within.

“I thank you for your concern, Legolas… it is not that I don’t appreciate it but-but you can’t help me with this… I must work through this in my own way… on my own… Forgive me!”

“Faramir, Wait!” I called after him but he was already walking away, head lowered to avoid eye contact with others as he passed,

“Well?” Estel’s question was posed before Faramir had even disappeared from view.

“I Don’t Know!” I ground out, frustration quickly turning to impotent anger. “Stubborn… infuriating… maddening… young… fool!” I glared at Estel when he had the nerve to chuckle at my outburst.

“I take it your famed Elven charm failed to make an impression on him?” I cuffed the impudent human even as my own smile forced an appearance.

“I think he is feeling beleaguered by the constant attention of everyone who crosses his path,” I explained. “… or at least that is the focus of his anger! I suspect the real reason lies hidden deeper… deeper than even he can see.”

“Come on, out with it, Legolas. What are you keeping to yourself?” Estel had his hands on my shoulders and there was no escaping his piercing and all-seeing scrutiny. I never could keep anything hidden from him for long.

“Come now. Legolas, tell me?” he demanded.

“What is this troublesome youngster keeping to himself now, my son?” Oh, now I had no chance of keeping my thoughts to myself, not against Estel and Lord Elrond’s perceptive and persistent attention.

“I was just about to find out, Ada!”

I shook my head in defeat. “Faramir’s sleep is troubled. He wakes with nightmares!” I explained.

“How do you know this? Has he told you? How often does it happen?”

“Two or three times last week, most nights this week… sometimes more than once a night.” I explained, dropping my eyes to the floor not wanting to see worry and disappointment that my revelation elicited.

“And how do you know this?” Lord Elrond demanded. I had no choice now but to explain what I had seen and to admit to my own actions.

“Does he know of your nightly visits?”

“No. He has enough to deal with without my adding to his embarrassment. I only go if he calls out in his distress and I always leave before he wakes!”

“You should have confided in us, my friend. Your attempts to safeguard his privacy are all well and good but this constantly disturbed sleep will weaken him and will not help him to deal with whatever is troubling him!”

“Not to mention that you are putting your own wellbeing at risk by missing out on your own rest!” Lord Elrond chided.

“I can deal with it… he cannot!”

“And if you had come to us we could have dealt with the problem and perhaps prevented you both wearing yourselves to exhaustion.” Lord Elrond chided, bestowing upon me a frown guaranteed to make me feel like an irresponsible Elfling.


I was surprised that Faramir joined us to partake of the evening meal; I was sure that given the events of the afternoon he would make his excuses and seek to find a measure of tranquillity in his own company. But attend he did. He made a point of claiming the seat next to Frodo at the table and from the Ring-bearer’s gentle expression I judged that Faramir had indeed made good his promise to make amends for his earlier actions.

I was not the only one present observing Faramir; I noted that Lord Elrond and Estel both had him in their sights. I did consider making myself scarce, not sure if I wanted to be around when Faramir found out my part in Estel and Lord Elrond’s knowledge of his sleeping difficulties. I think sometimes Estel can read my mind or maybe he is just adept at reading my body language but no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than I felt his hand on my arm, a quelling glance all but ordering me to stay put!

When the meal ended we moved into Arwen’s sitting room to relax. Faramir was rounded up by Lord Elrond and ‘guided’ to a quiet corner to be joined by Estel. There followed an edgy and somewhat heated discussion, Faramir making it clear that this further intrusion into his personal matters was not welcome. He should have realised by now that there is no gainsaying the two noble healers when they think that one of their own is in need of their particular skills. At the end of the discussion Lord Elrond produced a small medicine vial and ‘insisted’ that Faramir take it when he retired for the night.

When finally released by his carers Faramir stalked over to me, his face like thunder.

“The next time you feel the need to interfere in my concerns, Prince,” he spat, poking his finger towards my chest, “perhaps you would have the courtesy to come and discuss them with me first! I do not like having my privacy invaded nor do I wish to have loose-lipped busybodies blabbing my private business to others… Is. That. Clear!”

I nodded but he didn’t wait around long enough to hear my apologies, he stomped out onto the terrace and flounced down onto one of the benches, pulling a small book from his tunic. Merry and Pippin, who were out on the terrace play-fighting with wooden swords, ceased their game when they noticed Faramir’s arrival and after a heated, whispered, conversation they moved back into the main chamber, much to Pippin’s obvious disgust.

I watched Faramir for a while and though his gaze was directed at the page of his book, not once did he turn the page. I was just about to go out to him and try to make amends when a commotion within the room drew my attention. Frodo was dozing in a chair but Merry, Pippin and Sam had moved away and it was clear that Merry and Sam were trying to pacify and calm an increasingly irate Pippin. The little Took was fair bristling with indignation, his eyes bright and his little hands clenched tight.

“Pippin, keep your voice down!” I heard Merry say, trying to pull Pippin down beside him on the sofa.

“Mr Merry’s right, Mr Pippin, you don’t want to be making a fuss.” Sam soothed, unsuccessfully.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I don’t want to be doing, Samwise Gamgee!…the question needs asking … and if none of you are going to do it then I will…he was my friend too!” Pippin threw down his wooden sword and stormed back out onto the terrace.

“Pippin. Don’t!”

“No, Mr Pippin!”

PIPPIN!”

Pippin ignored his companion’s entreaties and the rest of the assembled company and marched right up to Faramir, not stopping until he was pressed right up against the Steward’s legs.

“Pippin?” Faramir was startled from his lonely, angry introspection by the sudden appearance of Pippin at his side. “Can I help you, little one?”

Every other conversation in the room stopped as we all focussed on this unexpected development. I felt the stirrings of alarm and I noticed that Estel was poised ready to move in and take action; he glanced my way passing a message of restraint, of careful watchfulness.

“Have you disowned your brother, Sir?! The little Took demanded

“Pippin, what do you mean?”

“T’is a simple question, Sir! Have you disowned your brother? Are you ashamed of Boromir?”

“No, Pippin. Why would you ask such a horrible question? What have I done that would lead you to accuse me of such a thing?” Faramir gasped. “When have you ever heard me utter a bad word against my brother… .against Boromir?” Faramir was distressed by this sudden and unexpected attack and I wanted desperately to go to him but Estel and Lord Elrond both stayed me.

“True I’ve never heard a bad word… and not a good word either, in fact not a single word at all!…not one word! and I-I don’t understand! I-I don’t understand why you’re allowing him to be-be forgotten… he deserves better than that!” Pippin cried, his little hands beating a tattoo against Faramir’s knees.

“Pippin you don’t understand! It’s not like that.”

“Then make me understand, My Lord! Make me understand why my-my big brave warrior isn’t being celebrated for the hero that he was! Make me understand why I’m shushed whenever I want to talk about him and remember him? Why whenever you’re near I have to pretend that I never knew him?” Pippin was weeping now, huge silent tears that ran down his face and dripped from his chin onto Faramir’s knees. Faramir leant forward and pulled the little Hobbit up onto his lap so that they were at eye level.

“Pippin, have I ever stopped you remembering Boromir? If so, it was never my intention to be so cruel!”

“No-no, Sir bu-but everyone else does They shush me and tell me to be more considerate! Not to bother you with my silly prattling or silly games!”

“Oh, Pippin! You tell me little one. Tell me about your big brave hero!” Faramir whispered to his littlest warrior.

Pippin sniffed, angrily dashing the tears from his cheeks; waiting for a nod of encouragement from Faramir.

“He was big and brave,” Pippin began, eyes bright with unshed tears and fond remembrance. “He taught us to fight, how to protect ourselves. He was patient and stern and he kept us to our task… and-and he carried us when we were too weary to walk any more and he huddled us under his big warm cloak when we were cold and he saved us from being buried and frozen in the snow… he swatted us when we were silly or reckless and he cheered us up with stories when we were low. He told us about his big White City and about his brave and loveable brother… an-and when the Orcs came he fought like a demon to keep us safe… even when those awful arrows knocked him to the ground he got right back up again and again until they overpowered him and they carried us way. He was a hero… a big golden hero and he was my fr-friend!” Pippin sobbed, held tight against Faramir’s chest.

“I know, Pippin..I know. He was my hero too. He taught me to fight and to ride and to swim and how to be brave and honest and honourable. All my life I’ve tried so hard to be like him… even when I knew that I would never be a strong or as skilled as he was… still I tried to make him proud of me… and he was! He was my big, shining Golden Brother, Pippin… and if I don’t talk about him, it’s not because I don’t care or because I’ve forgotten… it’s because it hurts too much!” Faramir whispered his voice laced with the agony of loss.

Pippin pulled back and looked up into Faramir’s face. What he saw reflected in Faramir’s grey pain-filled eyes touched his dear little Hobbit heart and he cupped his hands around Faramir’s cheeks and pulled him into his embrace, resting the Steward’s brow against the symbol of the White-tree embroidered on his surcoat.

“Oh, Faramir, I never meant to hurt you… I just didn’t understand. Can you forgive me?” They were both weeping now, Pippin noisy and unashamed in his sorrow and Faramir silent, as if his heart would shatter if he gave free rein to his grief.

And those of us who looked on? Not one was dry-eyed.

We left them to their privacy, locked together as they murmured their remembrances and their pain into the warm velvet night time. Within the chamber we sought comfort amongst our companions.

When Pippin finally returned to his fellow Hobbits, red-eyed and dishevelled, he was quickly absorbed into their circle. A few moments later Faramir passed through the chamber, he bowed to Estel and Arwen, picked up the vial of medicine from the mantle and, without a word, left for the sanctuary of his own rooms.

If I didn’t know him better I would have said he seemed calm, dignified even but I have learned a thing or two about our noble Steward in the last few weeks and I was not fooled. He was wound as tight as a spring, his calm façade a skilful mask intended to protect his emotions from the scrutiny of others. He had wept for Boromir and yet there was no relief for him in those tears. I have heard how ruthless Denethor was to his younger son but I fear his bitter attentions were as nothing to the savagery that Faramir heaps upon himself.

I did not follow him from the chamber. He has been battered by too many emotions this day and I did not wish to add to his distress. I left him to his privacy, vowing to make my peace with him on the morrow. Instead I stayed long enough to see the Hobbits bid their goodnights. Estel returned their blessing and as Pippin turned to leave Estel scooped him up and hugged him tight to his chest.

“Put me down, yer big softy!…what’s this all about, Strider?”

“You, Peregrin Took! You jump in with your oversized woolly feet, without thought or caution and yet you have achieved more in one evening than we have done in weeks!”

“You mean Faramir? I didn’t mean to upset him… I just needed to understand… I didn’t mean to upset him!”

“I know you didn’t, Pippin. I’m not vexed with you and neither is Faramir. Sometimes tears are a good thing and I think it helped Faramir to talk about Boromir and to remember him.” Estel reassured his littlest Guard

“Oh! Well that’s alright then… perhaps I’m not such a fool of a Took after all,” he chuckled, as Estel set him back on his feet.

Whether it was the attentions of the little Took or whether it was Lord Elrond’s potion I know not but for the first time in many nights there was no disturbance from Faramir’s chamber, no distressed cries of a sleep disturbed by nightmares; my reverie was tranquil and I woke at dawn in the comforting embrace of my green bower.

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4 Comment(s)

Wwhat can I say. This story has help me realise that I can no longer hide my fears and nigtmares. Beautifully written, the story made me cry. I haven’t cried in almost fifteen years, it was such a relive, thank you so much

— Ingrid    Monday 25 May 2009, 22:28    #

Hi Shireling,

I realized that I’d never left you feedback on this story, so I wanted to drop you a line to let you know how much I like it! I loved the initial confrontations between Faramir and Aragorn here, and the loving discipline in the denouement as well as the part with Beregrond were just terrific.

— Susana    Friday 15 June 2012, 18:04    #

Thank you! This is absolutely the best Faramir discipline fanfic. There are so many out there, but none have even come close to yours (and, need we say, many are far better not read). Thank you for all the brotherly love and concern you have portrayed in the characters, and the sense of correct punishment vs abuse. Lastly, thank you so, so much for finishing it! So many authors lose interest and leave unfinished tales!
Bravo!

— Treedweller    Friday 25 January 2019, 22:12    #

it’s so cute i love it

— comrade hannah    Thursday 25 July 2019, 22:18    #

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