Faramir Fiction Archive

Some Other End (R)

Written by Lexin

14 December 2005 | 39687 words

Part II

'Who's 'im, Bill?'
'A stranger!'
''Eave 'arf a brick at 'im.'
Punch, vol xxvi, p.82. 1854.

Faramir was careful never to complain in Samwise's hearing about anything for which the blame could possibly, by the remotest stretch of the imagination of men, elves, hobbits or dwarves be laid at Frodo's feet. A dragon could not guard its hoard with greater effort or cunning than Samwise did Frodo's happiness. As a result, Faramir was faced with a very pretty question of ethics, and one which, in his boyhood, his tutors had often set as an essay question to keep him out of trouble while they went about their own affairs: was it more dishonourable to pretend a happiness one did not feel in order to protect others, or to cause their misery by showing one's real emotions. He hoped and trusted that those tutors had never been faced with the daily reality which now confronted him.

The weather as they approached Bree was poor enough to explain any grimness in his expression - rain from the west blowing in their faces and louring grey clouds promising more to come. He rode on in silence, feeling Samwise looking at him once again.

Behind he could hear Frodo urging his pony, which appeared to dislike the weather as much as Faramir did, alongside Samwise. Snatches of their conversation came to him on the wind, "Leave him, Sam. Not his fault..."

"No reason to be..."

"Since when has anyone needed reason? Forbid you to...."

"Very well, if you wish it. But he'd better..."

Faramir urged his own horse ahead and away from them.

---

Before he and Frodo had become handfasted he'd had little trouble holding a conversation with any of the hobbits; now he found himself often unable to find the words. So it was this evening, "I..." he said, then stopped and swallowed. Frodo turned to him, and waited. "I'm not surprised your cousins were so anxious to reach this inn and get out of the weather."

Frodo relaxed minutely, and smiled, "They have fond memories of the ale here, and the victuals."

"Well deserved, Butterbur keeps a good table."

The silence lengthened for a moment. Faramir asked, "Would you...care to lie with me tonight?"

Another of those odd silences which punctuated their life together, then Frodo crossed the room to lay a hand on his face. "You do not have to do this if it displeases you. You know that."

Faramir looked down at Frodo's mouth, close to his own. "I know. It would..." Faramir struggled again to find the right word, "comfort me."

Frodo searched his face for moment more, "Then...yes. It would comfort me, also. I think we are both entitled at least to that."

---

"Why was your door locked this morning?" demanded Samwise as they broke their fast with the other hobbits and Mithrandir in a private parlour.

Faramir felt his face grow hot. Frodo answered, "My apologies, Sam. We forgot to unlock it."

Samwise was looking at Frodo, Meriadoc and Peregrin stared from Faramir to Frodo and back again. Faramir was aware of a fervent hope that the floor swallow him and spit him out somewhere far from here. Far Harad or Rhûn for choice.

There was a small part of Faramir, though, that wanted to corner Samwise in some secluded spot and tell him in the crudest terms exactly what he and Frodo did together, and observe his surprise. Then to add that it was the one thing, the one happiness, that he could offer Frodo that Samwise would not. He recognised full well that this desire to come between them was wholly unworthy and locked it away in his heart.

The stalemate between Samwise and Frodo was broken by the arrival of Butterbur with more bacon, kidneys and mushrooms. Not much caring for mushrooms, Faramir earned the love if not the respect of Meriadoc and Peregrin by leaving the more for them.

"Do you have time to sit with us a while this morning, Barliman?" Mithrandir spoke at last. He appeared not to have noticed the tension between the hobbits.

"Not this morning, sirs. But we were wondering, as you're spending the day here, if you could...that is if you'd be willing to spend part of the morning in the Common Room? You see, there's been some talk and gossip - some around what Master Gandalf and Mr Brandybuck and Mr Took told me last night." He paused a moment, then rushed on, "And the Bree-folk, well, we've questions to put to you all."

"Of course, Barliman," Mithrandir said. Indeed, put that way, they could hardly refuse.

---

The Common Room was larger than Faramir had expected, but full of the men and hobbits of Bree - though Faramir noticed very few women or hobbit-lasses in evidence - it was crowded. He was mostly aware of the eyes upon them; it felt almost like insect eyes. He was accustomed to addressing soldiers, to giving orders, but this felt different, as if they were on trial for some unknown crime.

He was not alone, among all six of them only Mithrandir looked at ease - he produced a pipe, filled it with pipeweed and looked as much at home as in the parlour above.

As he had answered for all of them, Faramir had expected that Mithrandir would take the lead, but Mithrandir looked at Frodo who grimaced and stood to speak. "I am Frodo Baggins. And if some of you recall that on my last visit to Bree I used another name I hope you will forgive me. I did so only out of great need." In as few words as were possible, not that they were few, Frodo told of the journey he and Samwise had made, the destruction of the Ring and the return of the King to Gondor and Arnor.

Not everyone there knew, and some did not believe even when they were told, that the place where they lived was in a country called Arnor. Faramir kept his amusement strictly to himself; he recalled the many fruitless hours spent on the training fields with the most difficult and surly of his father's soldiers attempting to instil some kind of intelligence or at the least, self-protection. Until Boromir left for Imladris, good men had usually been assigned to him, and they had been assigned to him again after his return. He recalled his few successes, the sweeter for being hard won.

The last of the doubters convinced, or at the very least silenced for the nonce, a hobbit who introduced himself as Hugo Greenleaf asked, "Gandalf we know, but who is this Man who sits so silent upon your left?"

Afterwards, Faramir wondered if Frodo had spent the stilly hours of the night during the journey from Gondor planning what he would say when asked this question for he spoke without pause for thought, "He is Faramir, son of the Lord Steward of Gondor and my husband."

Faramir knew at once that Greenleaf's look of astonishment would live on in legend and song in Bree.

"Little cannot wed big," said Greenleaf, when at last he was able to make his mouth work.

"I am afraid you are too late, Mr Greenleaf," said Frodo, possibly too politely. "You should have mentioned that to Faramir's father and King Aragorn before they attended our handfasting."

"And before Denethor gave you half of Eriador for agreeing to it," muttered Samwise under his breath.

Had a silence not fallen at that moment, Faramir would never have caught the remark, and he schooled his face into stillness. Half of Eriador? Truly a dowry fit for a prince. He wondered when - and if - Frodo or Samwise ever planned to him to find out, and indeed, what Frodo's plans for the future were. If he had any.

"Can he speak for himself?" asked a man who had not spoken before, and who did not introduce himself.

"I can," said Faramir. "What would you know of me?"

"Sit down, Gamil Twotrees," interrupted Butterbur.

"No, Barliman..." protested Twotrees.

"I know only too well what kind of question you would ask," said Barliman, sturdily. "And I want none of it in my inn."

"Barliman..."

"Silence!" For a hobbit, Frodo could be loud when he chose to be. "Twotrees may ask Faramir one question." Twotrees looked vindicated, but Frodo went on, "If I approve it as being a question a man may ask of another's handfasted, Faramir may answer. Is that acceptable to you, Barliman?" Faramir wondered what Frodo had seen in Barliman's face that he had missed.

"Very well," said Barliman, but he was still looking at Twotrees with the utmost loathing.

Frodo turned, "Faramir?"

Faramir nodded, once. Whatever local history there was here, he would probably do better to keep his and Frodo's necks out of the noose.

"Mr Twotrees, ask your question." Frodo sat down again.

Twotrees was silent for a time; Faramir supposed he was searching for a question which Frodo would permit. Finally he settled on, "Is it by your wish or that of Mr Baggins that you are married?"

Faramir flicked his gaze to Frodo who nodded. Faramir said, "Mr Baggins approached me through my father, with Mr Gamgee here as intermediary." Twotrees looked at him for a moment, and then sat down. Curiously, there was an almost palpable air of satisfaction among the Breelanders at Faramir's words. Faramir felt Frodo touch the back of his hand and turned his hand over so that their hands were clasped palm to palm, like lovers.

The questions moved on to Meriadoc and Peregrin, and Frodo whispered, "Well done," in a voice too quiet for anyone else to hear. "Enough of the truth, but not too much."

Faramir looked at Frodo. He was being praised for lying by omission? But honour did not demand that any man sow unneeded discord among strangers by too close adherence to the exact truth. Small comfort, far greater was the comfort of Frodo's hand in his.

The meeting wound down around lunchtime. Faramir surmised that it was a strange Breelander, hobbit or man, who would rather talk than eat - and also that it had been a thin year for Barliman Butterbur, who intended to make the most of the custom which was now offered him. However, even while he was rushing from room to room filling orders for ale and food, Barliman signalled to Faramir for a private word.

It did not pass unnoticed. As soon as they were alone Frodo asked, "What did old Barliman want?"

"To warn me."

"Against what?" Frodo clearly thought that Faramir could guard himself against most mischances.

Faramir smiled, "I am warned most carefully against ever allowing myself to be alone with Gamil Twotrees."

"Whom you could break across your knee with one hand tied behind you."

Faramir had to admit that was true. In which case, "I do not think it was physical assault I was being warned against."

"I see. I think." Frodo placed his hands on Faramir's shoulders, kneeling behind him on the bed. "Are you still in need of comfort?"

For a moment Faramir wondered what Frodo would think of him, then said, "Yes."

"Then lock the door."

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