Faramir Fiction Archive

If you can't see me as who I am, then why bother? (NC-17)

Written by Laivindur

22 April 2012 | 74699 words | Work in Progress

Chapter Thirteen

“Faramir!” Lahadrar screamed of all his lungs from inside the grey and green muddy valley in the heavy rain and storming skies. The thunder made it impossible for Faramir to hear his second lieutenant calls, and he was fighting off three orcs all by himself at the end of the small entrance of the valley with his men watching the fight from afar as they had been pinned down by one or two orcs each.

Lahadrar and the others had been ambushed by a hoard of huge orcs right before Faramir and three others had gotten back from patrol around the camp. All three had been killed while protecting their lord almost in an instant when the orcs had come forth from their hiding and Faramir was fighting the best he could after the surprise.

He blocked one hard strike from a dripping wet orc and kicked another one before he made it to attack, but a third orc came fast and kicked the Gondorian Captain as well with his huge and stompy foot. He landed on his back in the mud with a groan and the orc who’d kicked him grasped his hair shortly after while another disabled the gondorian by stepping on the sword.

The orc which held him firmly by the hair placed a knife at his throat and Faramir moaned in fear as he knew he was dead.

These orcs were huge and not as skipping and crazy like the others. He’d never encountered orcs this size, and they seemed more intellectual, which could not be good.
Faramir groaned by the heavy weight of the orc as he sat himself on him.
The Captain could get somewhat information when the foul creatures spoke to each other. One of them grinned with its sharp and dirty teeth at the moaning man, but when the man went silent and seemed to listen to them as they spoke of where the other rangers were to be sent, and where they were going to let this one go, and a look of confuse turned to horror of knowledge in the young man’s face, the orcs went silent as they had noticed the man’s perceptive behavior.
He had realized they were not going to kill him; they had agreed to take him to their leader for interrogation, and the man panicked. He would rather die, and let go off his sword to grab the orc’s hand and fought for his freedom against the knife at his life veins.

He heard the orcs curse and yell
“Stupid man, does he want to die?” “Did he understand what we said?!” Faramir tried to kick the orc several times still holding onto the thick and dark hand.
Lahadrar had screamed his captain’s name in warning and fear for him, and had already started weeping as his captain had been struck down in the soil.
He’d seen his beloved friend lying under the huge orc, and could just imagine what they did to him. As he’d seen Faramir flounder under the beast, he laughed a bit in relief. He abruptly whispered to the other rangers, who had been bound, that their captain was truly alive still.
A struck on top of his head from his captivator had made him silent, but he kept his gaze expectant towards Faramir.

The rangers had reacted differently each and one of them seeing their captain not being slaughtered. Some knew what could be waiting for him, while some had gone into shock and couldn’t think straight, and some smiled knowing their good friend still breathed life.

The orc got kicked in the face as he tried to tie Faramir’s legs together. He cursed and stabbed Faramir in his thigh with a long dagger. Some rangers closed their eyes as their Captain’s echoed scream from the exploding pain in his thigh hit the valley and reached their ears.

The orc made to tie his legs by standing on them while their owner groaned still in pain, and stood up to spit in his face. Even though the pain soured through him, he kept silent. They tied his hands easily as the human didn’t want to risk getting stabbed again, and their strong and dirty arms grasped them painfully.

The orc who had been sitting on him all along, got off him and made a snarling laugh. A thunder rumbled through the valley and the orcs roared by their lucky capture. Not only did the white tree on Faramir’s chest give him authorities and advantages, it also gave him unpleasant disadvantages.

He tried to rise up to sit, but a heavy stomping foot kept him down in the mud. The rain made it difficult for Faramir to gain control of the situation. He tried to figure out the state of his men; how many of them slain, and how many wounded or captured.

When he saw at least ten of his men pinned down by an orc each, he gained a second thought to his life; he couldn’t leave his men behind like this. The owner of the foot crushing his chest spoke to his troop and they all started to carry, drag and push the humans away. Two of Faramir’s attackers lifted him up and ran along with the others. Faramir saw almost half of his men were slain as the corpses were left behind.

The rangers had already been placed in a circle on their knees further inside the giant cave when Faramir was being dragged inside by one orc at each side. He had been blindfolded just as the other, but sensed the cave probably had many different tunnels. He was lead away from his men, and he could hear Lahadrar shout “Where are you taking him?” before a thud explained his further silence.

The frightened and worried whispers and voices made Faramir lack courage and wished his panicking men to regain the calm focus they had trained so hard to get.
He could hear grunts of the orcs walking by and some snorted right beside his face making him jerk closer to his captivators, and the other made sounds that could perhaps be a laugh. He jerked and winced as they lead him further inside. The feeling of his legs tied and unable to walk by themselves was truly frustrating to the ardent captain.

He had been lead away from his men, but he could hear their frightened whispers and the orcs’ orders to keep shut through the mountain caves still. When the orcs finally stopped, he could hear his own nervous breath and numbers of orcs move and grunt.

Not only did the unlucky situation crave its courage from the young captain, his older rangers who still questioned his leadership bothered him a lot as well. He didn’t want them to lose hope because of his inexperience, and the pressure he felt was nothing like before.

The cave got more silent, but it wasn’t until a sudden vile and dark voice appeared in front of him that everything went as silent as the grave.
When everyone present noticed it was only Faramir’s wary breath that sounded, a few snorts from the creatures sounded and the huge evil grunted a couple of times that perhaps could be words. Even though the person had a certain distance his voice was terrifying to the young Gondorian, and his feet trembled as he was pushed a couple of steps forward.

When he refused to go closer the terrifying creature and pressed backwards at his captivators, he heard huge feet step down three steps and as he started on the same floor where Faramir had his feet, they threat to succumb to this strong and frightening creature.

He expected a strike, or a spear or a sword stab him right in the gut, but as the creature mumbled roughly, he could hear it was definitely an orc and feared something he could not even imagine.

The blindfold got removed and he looked upon a huge orc chest before gazing upwards to a smiling dark face with yellow eyes. The orc bent down still smiling and spoke with his foul breath in Faramir’s face
“Is a weakling like you their leader?” Faramir faced away from him and kept silent. A strike hit his ribs and he revealed a restrained moan.
The orc which held him grasped his jaw and yelled “Speak, you runt!”

The chief orc grasped the orc’s arm carefully and spoke calmly while he tightened his grasp around it
“If you break his jaw, he can’t speak, you…” He spoke their language, so it was barely that Faramir understood.

Faramir shifted his jaw back to a comfortable position as the orc let go and the arm was tossed away by the chief.

“They are tender these humans.” The giant orc purred as he grabbed Faramir by the vest and lifted him up and towards himself to have a closer look at this young Captain. Faramir had troubles hiding the fear as it made his breath quicken.

“Tell me where the other troop is heading, and I will spare your adorable face.” the orc purred as softly as he managed with his rough throat, but did not get anything from the captain this way so he yelled “Tell me where they will be!”

He yelled so loud that Faramir’s eardrums echoed. He closed his eyes and the trembling breath was the only thing leaving his lips.
Faramir got dashed to the ground by the impatient orc and he repeated the question with a whisper so close to his ear it made him sick.
For the first time speaking to an orc, he went through everything he’d heard or read about these foul creatures, but could not figure out what to do, say or expect as he strived so hard to keep it cool.

He’d heard they were quite unpredictable and shook by fear, but gathered somewhat sense and courage to speak.
“I do not know of any other troop.” Faramir said and got surprised by his own trembling voice. The orc roared and dashed Faramir to the ground once more. His neck muscles ached from keeping his head from the floor in the hard fall and he yelled
“I don’t know of any other troop!”
Lahadrar and the others heard a smack after their Captain’s yells.

They prayed for a miracle, but were glad to see their Captain being dragged inside to their cave, though with a stripe of blood from a cut on his cheek. Some of them said his name in relief, but were silenced by the orcs. They still had one or two orcs keeping them under control, and none dared to do uproar under these circumstances.

The men could see their captain’s fear as he had gone paler and his eyes had never been this wary and frightful. They could see him plot an escape with every free second he got without the orcs’ attention towards him, and some of the older men thought it brave of their young one to have hope, but they knew they were doomed and looked at the ground defeated.
Some of the younger ones trembled and was still in shock. Three had been deeply wounded as they’d shouted and fought even though the older once had told them to stay calm.

One had not handled his Captain to be away from him like this, and started sobbing and weeping as Faramir had not been placed with them. The lieutenants, Lahadrar and Beregond, had kept them somewhat calm, but it wasn’t until they gained a reassuring gaze from Faramir they stopped. One of them looked for an order from his Captain, and almost started weeping again as he did not give one and instead dropped his gaze to search for something that could save them.
An orc placed himself between them, and repeated the question. The orc hinted to the other rangers to answer as well, and Lahadrar spoke with his courageous old voice

“There is no other troop.”
Faramir looked warningly at him with his strict lips and eyes. Lahadrar just wanted to back up what his captain had said earlier, and didn’t quite understand Faramir’s reactions.

The orc turned away from Faramir to the older man, and smacked Lahadrar so hard he fell into the orc behind him. Lahadrar’s captivator pushed the old man back to his knees and the chief turned to everyone in the cave “Do not lie, stupid humans! We see through you. Tell where the other troop is, and you will be released from your suffering!”

The shouting orc turned rapidly towards Faramir and squinted suspiciously as he had turned his gaze in a hurry. The captain had given his men the steal glare of silence as the orc had roared, but now he looked blunt ahead of himself.
He tried to make this the best he could. If only he could have his sword so he could stab this son of a…
“This is your captain, I know it!” The orc spat as he leaned uncomfortably near him. He turned to the rangers once more and growled.

“If none of you tell where the other company is…” He turned back to their brave captain “…your dear captain will suffer greatly.”

Faramir went cold and stiff and had a storming quarrel with himself; he hoped his men would stand this and not blurt out where Boromir and his company were to meet them as they would probably be forced to watch their Captain be tortured to death.

But then: would it be worth it if everyone of them would have to be tortured to death in front of their comrades until one of them got mad and told the foul creatures everything they wanted to hear?

Would they blame him if they met needless pain just to have one of them blurt the truth at the end and then to be killed?
No, he and his men knew the orcs would kill them if they spoke or not, but what if they would be killed faster if speaking?
No, they would never reveal Boromir’s camp, it would be best to have one troop of rangers lost than putting a huge army to the bill as well.

He thought of how Boromir would feel or react when he got the news of his death.

“Aaw, are we getting scared and puny?” The orc gurgled and Faramir gazed back angry at the orc as he imitated sobbing as good as an orc could “You do not want to die do you, boy?”

Faramir kept his iron gaze at him and the orc thought if the man stared any longer at him an arrow would come out of nowhere.

“Don’t look at me like that, kid!” The orc hit Faramir so hard he almost fell out of his captivator’s grasp, and then he took forth the same dagger which he’d stabbed Faramir with earlier to place it beneath the man’s left eye after grabbing his hair to straight him up. Faramir’s blood was still on the cold metal
“Do you think your Captain will be able to be just as good with only one eye?”
Faramir jerked in the grasps of the orcs “No.”
A young man stood up from the sitting rangers
“I will tell you everything, just let him go!”
Faramir screamed “Farahir, sit down!”

This young boy was new and had been taken good care of by Faramir. He’d gotten to know his Captain and learned to know just how nice and honorable he could be. One day in the stable he’d been so frightened when he’d answered just in time with Faramir after mishearing the name called out. Both Lahadrar and Faramir had looked confused at the boy after he’d answered by Faramir’s name.

The boy had been so afraid of his Captain’s gaze even though it wasn’t that frightening; it was just the fact that he got attention from this high ranked man, and the boy had miscalculated Faramir’s confused and intense eyes and thought he’d stared at him in insult and dismay.
Faramir had laughed by it when he’d told him the reason for his run away, and tapped him on the back. Farahir had smiled and laughed with him.

Faramir groaned as the orc hit him in the tummy and moved slowly towards Farahir. He waved with the dagger while speaking.

“Well then tell, little human.”
Farahir just couldn’t stand what they were about to do to his beloved Captain, but now he regretted his outburst. He had strived not to be an obstacle for Faramir and succeeded on every mission. Now he’d ruined it in two seconds.
Faramir clenched his teeth not to say something to make the situation worse, and as the orc stretched out to grab Farahir, Faramir screamed.

“There is nothing to tell, he… he is in shock, he doesn’t know what he is saying!”
The orc dragged Farahir out in the circle, and placed his still bloody dagger to his throat “You were saying?”
Faramir swallowed.
Lahadrar looked worried on the bleeding stab from Faramir’s thigh which made his Captain grow paler. He wanted to help him, but remembering the earlier warned look from his Captain, he knew he was not to speak.
Faramir’s skin glistened by the pouring sweat, and he carefully said

“He is in shock, you must see that. Humans are not reliable whilst in shock, they tell all sorts of irrelative things.”
Faramir feared for the kid’s life, and tried to save him from whatever the orc was to do to him. He looked strict at Farahir before speaking angry to the orc

“I can assure you I am in no shock as your friend here stabbed it out of me, and I can tell you there is no other troop, company or whatever. Let us go, and we will leave your land as quickly as we can. And we can do it quite quickly if you do us no harm.”

The orc had only let Faramir speak because he was curious on what this small Captain had to say, and somewhat he enjoyed his voice. He looked back at Farahir and sled his dagger slowly at his cheek so a red stripe followed.

Farahir whimpered and looked at his Captain which eyes had grown more intense as they seemed like trying to mind control the dagger away from him. The orc’s voice provoked Faramir more and more and his anger rose by the filthy creature using this vulnerable boy.

“Come one little one, do tell where the others are.” Farahir followed his captain’s whatever plan and spoke in a hurry trembling thin voice

“I want three pairs of rabbits after this tea party is over.”

Everyone in the cave held their breath and tensed while time stopped. None actually knew what to say or do. The most surprised ones were the orcs who froze for a second not knowing how to react, but then they all roared out in a terrible laughter while the men stood frozen by both shock and fear for what to come next.

The rangers looked insecure at each other and waited anxiously at the orcs’ next move. Faramir stared just the same at Farahir after a tingle light of surprise and shock had emerged in his eyes hearing his crazy ranger, but done was done, and he was praying the orc would release him.

What Faramir feared the most happened; but the boy kept on with his insanity while the orc tortured him.

Faramir’s and Farahir’s cries mingled; Farahir’s screams and cries by what the foul orc did to him, and Faramir’s pleadings to make him stop while being held back by strong and painful orc claws.

He tried to come up with whatever the orc might find more interesting, but as it didn’t work and the orc seemed to do it all just for fun, he was on the edge to lose it. The other rangers were on the edge to lose it as well, but made it to keep silent between sobs of either fear or horror.

The silence which followed after the poor boy got his throat cut by a strong and deep stab and slice from the orc was heartbreaking for all the rangers, but it was the caring Captain who had the orcs’ attention.
Faramir had stopped breathing and felt the whole cave freeze in timeless pain and anguish, while the other rangers looked at the poor corpse with grief and remorse. Faramir took a deep breath as the orc moved towards him, and while the orc grabbed Faramir’s cheeks and made him face him, he could not feel the tears rolling down his face.

Without blinking, the tears rolled uncontrollably down his iron gaze.

“Did I kill your little friend?” the orc snarled. Faramir hated this creature with all his heart and soul. To the rangers’ surprise, Faramir roared at the sickening orc with all his might and the orc let go off him while backing away as the human had started to kick him in the legs.

He tried to wriggle himself out of the other orc’s captive, and wouldn’t stop screaming and roaring as his hatred for this creature overwhelmed.
“Get him to shut it!” the orc yelled, and Faramir was lifted from the ground as he tried with all his might to attack the orc before him. The captivator crushed Faramir to the ground which made an end to the screams. Instead, the captain panted heavily with a few groans while still trying to attack the orc.

The orc punched him several times until he lay still and silent. He bled from his nose, and could imagine two of his ribs broken. The orc placed a dagger pointing at Faramir’s throat.
Faramir swallowed some blood and looked at the strong arm which the dagger yielded to
“There’s a lot of noise from you, but not what I want to hear.”

The orc started to cut loose the leather armor and his shirt without minding stabbing or cutting him. The rangers saw blood color the ground beneath Faramir from the many cuts and stabs, and felt sick by the sounds of pain coming out from Faramir’s lungs.

After the orc was done, the rangers looked upon a half naked, bleeding and beaten down captain. A man dared to whisper “Lord, Faramir!” in horror, and the man was not sure why he had said it, but regretted it after seeing his captain’s reaction; he screamed and attacked the nearest orc to get the attention away from the his ranger.
“I hate you all ugly creatures of the dark, may you all burn in the flames of Anor! Or perhaps your own deceitful master’s flames!”

Having his legs and arms bound and being beaten as he was, he had not much to fight with, but a swing with his legs made an orc loose balance for some time, and it provoked the orcs to start kicking and cursing him.

He felt a vehement pain crush through him as the orcs hit his ribs and the wound in his thigh, and he moaned and sobbed thinking the kicking would never come to an end.
His cuts and wounds scratched to the stone as he rolled onto an orc’s feet to cling to them like a scared child. A last kick was placed on his hurt thigh before the orc he’d been clinging to, grasped him by his shoulders and pinned him to face down.

“This one has been under the whips.”
He scratched him on his scar covered back so forcefully he made new stripes of red. Lahadrar wept, seeing his young friend being treated like this while being unable to do anything, and some rangers who had not seen the captain’s dishonest back full of scars before, frowned even in this hopeless time.

“Hang him up the wall.” the orc ordered. Watching the orcs pick up the sweat, bleeding and tired Faramir, Lahadrar also glanced at some bolted rings in the mountain wall. He saw the orcs make ready ropes through the rings, and tied Faramir to them. He let himself hang by the ropes using them and the wall as support since he was to tired and beaten to keep himself up.

“Listen you worthless humans; I will give your precious little Captain one good swing for each time you keep silent, after that I have more fun for him, don’t you worry. This will gladly be an appetizer, but of course, your dear…” The orc looked at the bleeding and panting Faramir “…Faramir over here…”
he looked back at the trembling rangers “…will not think of it as so. It is your choice. Speak, or watch him suffer.”

The orc saw the rangers were on the edge to speak, so he turned quickly to snap the whip on Faramir. A quiet whimper from him made half the rangers close their eyes and throw their heads down. The orc repeated the action many hurried times, but as he realized these annoying rangers were not speaking, he hurried to Faramir and grabbed his hair.
Faramir muffled a moan feeling the tight grasp from the orc, and shivered as the orc whispered to him after tilting the head backwards to an agonizing position
“Do you like being treated like this, weak human? Do you want some more? If not you must make these slaves of yours speak.”

He let go of Faramir with a jerk and walked over to Farahir’s corpse. He kicked it and screamed to the rangers
“You want to end up like this fella?”

None of the rangers dared to look, but then Faramir yelled
“What, are you tired of me? You have to kick around corpses to fulfill your day?”
The foul orc growled to his men “Bring the salt!”
Faramir shifted in position and prepared for what to come. He took deep breaths and exhaled with eyes closed. A man closest Faramir, who had seen Faramir’s pleading face for each whip, leaned a bit forward to whisper “My lord?”

He did not have his own orc to watch over him, and was hidden behind other rangers, squeezed to the wall that Faramir was pinned to. Faramir’s bleeding body breathed, but his face told a different story.
His eyes were closed, and he didn’t seem to hear his man. The man heard the orcs coming back, probably with the salt, and he tried one last time
“My lord!” He got pushed slightly by another terrified ranger and they both widened their eyes hearing a slight trembling whisper “Make sure everyone keep silent.”

Shivers crept through Faramir’s spine as the orc placed himself behind him, and he could smell the salt.
“Sure you don’t want to spill where your company is?”
The orc breathed coldly on his neck.

Faramir filled the cave with torturing silent, and the orc made a move. The stinging pane that coursed through as the orc rubbed a fistful of salt onto his wounds made him arch his back and lift himself by the ropes.
His chest felt like bursting by the scream he held back, and he cursed the wall that kept him from getting away from the violating hands. It felt like someone ate his flesh just to put it back and tear it off again.
Drops of salt and blood got spilt on the nearest rangers as the vicious orcs bathed their Captain with the tormenting spice. He didn’t stand their vicious massage any longer and the suppressed scream that came forth made Lahadrar strive to fight back tears.

It was not only salt in those dirty bags, though he could not figure out what, it sure hurt.

A heartbreaking scream tortured the rangers’ ears as an orc bathed the wound on Faramir’s thigh with the tormenting sand. Their claws and hands could be painful enough without the salt, and he cried even more as the orcs got fiercer.

Some rangers wept of the helplessness.
They saw no way out from this grieving hour until a ruckus appeared from the tunnel. The orc who’d first started torturing Faramir stepped away from the suffering man and didn’t quite get what happened before seeing a huge warrior dressed in red and dark garment flash through his guards and cleave all at once in half.

Both warrior and orc roared as the warrior lifted his sword and cut the foul creature in half as well.
The rangers called out in relief and surprise “Boromir!” and Faramir sighed in relief as well when leaning towards the cold and wet stone wall. He had no energy left for surprise or wonder, he was only glad to know safety.

All of the orcs had been slain in seconds by Boromir and his troop. The general hurried to the terrifying sight of his mutilated brother as the other rangers were tended to.

“Faramir.” Boromir whispered, and afraid of making him hurt even more he didn’t touch him. He kept his arms protectively over him with a fist’s distance as he couldn’t find a place on his torso not violated “Answer me brother, are you alright?”

Faramir sighed and smiled even though he ached, and relaxed his forehead against the wall. The ranger who’d whispered to Faramir last, stared at his smiling Captain. He admired the brother’s bonds as he saw the strong protective elder brother stand behind his little brother with deep concern, and the other smile despite his fate.

As the staring ranger’s hands were untied, two soldiers hurried beside Boromir and helped him untie the younger captain. He couldn’t stand on his own legs, so Boromir held him carefully by under his arms when the ropes loosened. Faramir winced and yelped as the salt burnt by the movements to make him sit.

He felt his legs untwined and heard Boromir call out an order, but was too weary to perceive it.
Later the men came in with a wet blanket.
“Hang on, Fara.” Boromir said comforting to Faramir before he placed the wet blanket around his torso. To Faramir it was a blanket of pain and he tightened the grip around Boromir’s neck when he started walking after lifting him up.

Boromir gave orders and commands to his soldiers as he carried his brother outside.
As Faramir saw the sunlight outside he thought of Farahir who would never see it again, and worried his soul perhaps was lost in the cave. Boromir comforted him on the way to a lake as he wept in between moans of pain.

Faramir had almost lost consciousness when he felt water surround his legs and back where he lay in his General’s arms. He pressed his lips together to stop himself from making any more sound. By gently supporting him, Boromir let his little Captain stand on his feet in the fresh water.

Faramir supported himself on Boromir the best he could, and looked weary upon the worried expression on his elder brother.
The water was both soothing and burning to his injuries, but as Boromir sled the blanket off his bleeding back, Faramir winced and clenched onto him grasping his garment.
The elder brother blushed a bit when he had to keep Faramir standing by cupping his butt, and the water around them circled with both blood and salt.

Boromir placed his hand on his little one’s head and stroke his cheek with a caring thumb “Faramir?”

Faramir moved back in a crooked position and smiled, but closed his eyes abrupt by a clenching pain in his ribs.

Boromir’s attention was put away by an approaching soldier.
“My lord, we have secured area, and a tent for Lord Faramir has been put up.”
He had come running from the wood and had stopped by the waterfront as he had given the message. Right after, a healer jumped in the water and walked to stand beside Faramir.

Boromir looked pleadingly at him, and didn’t let go the worry even though the healer spoke reassuringly to his General
“He will be alright. Walk with him in the water to make sure most of the salt gets removed. And it seems like his ribs are injured so be careful.”
Boromir supported Faramir as carefully he could and started slowly to walk with him. He glanced insecure at the healer when Faramir grasped his arm in pain.
“It’s alright, Boromir. It will hurt, but it is for the better.”

The healer smiled at the uncommon sight of the great warrior; normally he would have told the soldier in his arms to stop whining and stormed the water with the crying man in his arms. Now, he moved tentatively, and wouldn’t give his attention to anything else. The healer walked out of the water, and called out to Boromir.

“That is fine. Come up and I will lead you to the tent.”
When Boromir walked with his brother, both dripping wet, Faramir made to speak despite his weariness “Thank you.”
Boromir kissed him soft but quickly next to the bruise on his cheek.

After Faramir had gotten his torso completely filled with bandages, and his thigh had been tend to, he was kept warm by blankets and placed by the bonfire. The men looked warmly at Faramir as they watched him sleep.
Boromir’s soldiers patrolled like never before to make sure their camp was safe. If the general noticed any of his soldiers linger, or not making sure of Faramir’s safety, he was quick to rise and make them.

“Calm down Boromir.” Lahadrar placed his palm on the strict general’s shoulder and made him sit. Boromir sat down by the old man and tried to relax as he admitted to himself he was being too strict.

This terrible place so close to Mordor sought out the worst in him, and with the enemy moving closer to his realm worrying his mind, it sure didn’t make it easier seeing his little Faramir so close from being killed. It had almost flipped him of the board.

He glanced often over to Faramir who slept silent in the warmth of the fire, then he rubbed his face and forehead to make himself calm down. Lahadrar spoke to Boromir in the soft murmur of tired men around them
“How is it that you came to our rescue? We were supposed to meet you at Emyn Arnen, how did you know where to find us?”
Boromir’s men didn’t ask questions like these annoying rangers, and he gave Lahadrar a strict and offended none-of-your-business gaze. Whilst Lahadrar looked upon the younger man unaffected and waited for answer, Boromir looked away and sighed before answering.

“When we got to your camp we saw the corpses. By the numbers we thought the rest of you had been taken captive and set out to find you.”
Lahadrar knew his General told a version of the story to lure the question away from why he’d sought to find their camp in the first place, but didn’t want to press him any further by asking too many questions, and as he could see there was something the general was about to say but didn’t, he kept silent.
“We found the trail, and I heard…”
by the last words his voice almost broke “…Faramir scream.” While Boromir looked away from the lieutenant and at Faramir, he fought the tears.

He swallowed his grief and rubbed his face before covering nose and mouth with his symmetrical praying palms.

Lahadrar rubbed Boromir’s back
“If it was your gut feeling that made it to us, then I say trust it with all your heart. Thank you, Boromir. It is true what they say about you indeed.”
One of the rangers ahead of Boromir reached out a bowl with warm soup “Here.”
Boromir accepted it but did only stare in it; his gaze searched for someone to blame among the vegetables and meat in the broth, as he’d not gotten enough anger put out on the orcs. The same ranger, who’d dared to whisper to Faramir earlier, dared himself once again and made a joke to Boromir.

“You’re supposed to eat it, not stare it to digestion.”
A dark and cold gaze from Boromir made all the rangers on the log in front of him shiver and lean back or slide away from the joking fellow ranger. After an awkward and frightening silence from them, the angry general looked back in his soup. Faramir had heard it all in his ‘sleep’, and spoke with a low and soft voice which surprised the men

“It’s true, Boromir, it is eatable.”

Boromir lost his distress when he met his brother’s warm and delicate gaze, and the rangers smiled at their Captain; it was good to see him as himself again.

Boromir walked over to Faramir to sit beside him “Do you want this? I’m not hungry.”
Boromir asked like a worried mother, and the rangers smiled by it, but made sure to turn away so the angry general was unable to see. Faramir smiled “If it’s Bommidos’ cooking, then no thank you.”

“Eey! I heard that.” The rangers laughed as Bommidos popped up from one of the tents.
Boromir smiled along with Faramir, and somehow he envied the relationships he had with his men. He got back to the worried brother as Faramir frowned in pain and placed a reassuringly hand on his forehead to caress the brows with his thumb “I do not know who made this soup, but you should eat.”

An almost unnoticeable nod from Faramir made Boromir put the bowl down, and then shift to help him up. Faramir made it fine to sit by himself, but Boromir watched him like a tilting crystal vase.

Boromir’s clumsy and tentative feeding made Faramir laugh, and some of the men tried to hide as they also found it quite entertaining. The younger brother grimaced in pain by the laugh, and after he let his brother fail on feeding him by spilling broth on his chin, he said somewhat laughing
“Boromir, I’m sure I can hold the bowl myself.”

With an askew mouth letting out a malcontent noise, Boromir wiped the broth away from his brother’s chin.

“You’re a nice nanny, but I can eat this by myself.”
Faramir continued the joke, but Boromir shook his head and turned to see if any of the men witnessed this humiliation. Everyone had gone to make their beds luckily.
The truth was that they wouldn’t dare linger any more as the sight of Boromir was too funny, but it wasn’t too long for bedtime anyway.

Boromir watched the fire and would not leave his brother throughout the night. Faramir’s lovely voice warmed Boromir more than the bonfire ever could

“How is it that you came for us?”
Boromir glanced at the men sleeping a bit far ahead, and lowered himself on his elbow to lie next to Faramir.
“I couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”
Faramir looked at his big brother tenderly
“You big cuddle bear.”

Faramir was the only man who could get away saying such, and the great general smiled.

When Faramir noticed something troubling Boromir a while after, he whispered to know what it was. Boromir answered silently “When I saw your sword lie in the soil, I feared…”
Faramir placed his hand on his, and didn’t need to hear more. Boromir left it by that and felt a sudden drop at his face.
He gazed up at the sky
“It’s going to rain. Let’s get you inside.”
The healers helped Boromir carry Faramir inside the tent, and Boromir tucked him in with more blankets. When they were left alone, Boromir bent down and placed a kiss on Faramir’s lips.

“Good night, little one. We are going home tomorrow.” Faramir could not sleep as well as Boromir had wished him, for he could imagine his father’s look as he was about to come home earlier once again.

Faramir was right.
As Denethor got the news of what had happened in Ithilien close to Ephel Duath, he looked away from Boromir with chagrin. The sight of Faramir being carried to the houses of healing on a healer’s board by four soldiers made Denethor speak in dismay.

“I wonder when you are to stop rescuing that little brother of yours every time he fails. What do you expect will come of him if you tend to his rescue every time?”
Boromir was speechless and had troubles finding words “Father!” he let his jaw hanging as he couldn’t find words. Tentatively he spoke as it was hard not to seem agitated

“Faramir risked his life for keeping our position a secret. He endured whatever the orcs might find amusing to do to a human.” As Denethor watched Boromir with illegible eyes, Boromir puffed and turned to walk away.
Denethor called for him. He stopped, but fisted his hands without turning, not wanting to reveal his anger. As time passed by without a word, Boromir did turn, and Denethor could see the anger in his firstborn.
He spoke coldly “Faramir might have done well, but every time I send him out he returns wounded and unable to serve Gondor for days, maybe this time for weeks. I will speak with him when he recovers, but now I need you to fix things your brother has failed in and join me for meetings. There are things to be done, and plans to plot. We who still stands must prevent our lands from falling.”

Boromir understood, but couldn’t help the anger by the underestimation of his courageous little brother. He bowed and left.

In the healing houses the healer spoke to soothe
“You were lucky, my lord; I have seen men being treated far worse than this by orcs.” the healer thought he could comfort Faramir by those words, but really it made things worse.
Faramir had been staring blunt ahead of him all the time as he’d been sent to the healing houses, and the healers worried for him and had asked for Boromir, but he was kept all too busy by his father after the last mission had failed.

One of the several times Faramir had to be begged by the female healers to eat, to later succumb to Ioreth’s demands, Ioreth had had enough and knocked fiercely on a door leading to a court room. A servant came outside and told her to be gone or meet the consequences.
She didn’t care what the servant said and spoke demandingly with her hands on her waist “I need Sir Boromir right this instant. It’s regarding his brother.”
The servant lifted his brows and sighed ‘sooth yourself’ as he turned back inside the room.

The steward had let his attention go from one of his counselor’s to Boromir as the servant had taken his attention from the meeting. Denethor could read his youngest son’s name on his firstborn’s lips, and straightened up when he rose quickly as the servant nodded. Denethor knew exactly what Boromir was to ask for as their eyes met. To Denethor’s offence and astonishment, Boromir didn’t ask, he excused himself and left in a hurry.

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/if-you-cant-see-me-as-who-i-am-than-why-bother. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!