Faramir Fiction Archive

Paying the Piper (G)

Written by Shireling

15 November 2005 | 22964 words

Chapter 4

At one time a midnight alarm would have seen Faramir instantly alert and ready to respond to whatever threatened. At Henneth Annûn sleep was snatched as and when possible; the Commander and his Rangers sleeping in boots and leather armour, their weapons close to hand, to aid a speedy reaction. Now, when the call for assistance came, Faramir found it a struggle to shake himself awake to deal with the situation. Once the severity of the crisis became apparent he was dressed within minutes and off running down through the levels of the City with Tamir in attendance.

A fire in the stables on the first level had spread rapidly to the temporary barracks, threatening not only the military buildings but the slum dwellings of the poorest quarter of the city. The temporary barracks had been set up in buildings long since abandoned for habitation, their use made necessary while the war-damaged buildings of the main garrison were repaired.

By the time the Steward arrived on the scene the fire was out of control, the roof of the stables had collapsed and there was no hope of saving the barracks. The Watch Commander had men organised to pass a constant chain of water buckets from the wells to the scene of the blaze. Faramir assessed the situation and organised more men to dowse the at risk buildings. As the night dragged on he made the decision to evacuate and demolish a whole row of ramshackle dwellings in an attempt to halt the spread of the blaze.

It was a long, long, exhausting night and the dawn brought little relief. More men were drafted in and the struggle continued. Faramir was in the thick of the action, toting buckets, encouraging exhausted men and organising rotas and refreshments to keep the men on their feet. It was only when Tamir drew his attention that he realised that, in the midst of the chaos, he had missed the trumpet call announcing the King’s return.

“Is the King here now?” Faramir was too exhausted to worry about protocol.

“No, Sir. He was informed by the duty guard at the City gate of the fire and that you were in attendance and he carried on up to the Citadel.” Faramir sat down on an upturned barrel to catch his breath.

“Tamir, I need you to go up to the Citadel and present the King with my apologies. Explain what has happened here and tell him that I will attend him as soon as I am able. Also, have my secretary present the reports from the council meetings for him to peruse at his leisure. I’m sure that he will require some time to spend with his loved ones before he falls back into the pressure of everyday business.”

“Very well, Sir. I will return as soon as possible.”

“No, Tamir, you have done more than enough for today. Go and get some rest.”

“What about you, Sir?”

“I will be done here shortly. I will snatch a bite to eat from the quarter-master before I attend his Majesty.”

“See that you do, Sir.”

“Yes, mother!” Faramir cuffed the youngster and sent him off with a tired grin.

“Sire, Lord Faramir to see you,” the page announced. Faramir went down on one knee before the King.

“I trust you had a worthwhile trip, Sire?” Faramir asked as the King drew him to his feet.

“I think we have managed to deal with most of the trouble makers. The remnants of the forces of Harad have been rounded up and the Swan Knights have taken them into custody and will arrange their repatriation back across their own borders. Beregond is planning to keep up extra patrols in the border areas and you and he will need to discuss increasing the contingent of the White Guard.”

“I have already discussed it with the Cadet Commander, Sire. There is a new draft of promising cadets due to graduate shortly. We are planning an accelerated training programme to equip them with the basic skills required by the White Company. Beregond will need to appoint a Sergeant to take responsibility for training them in-post. . .it is not ideal but it will at least boost Beregond’s numbers and make his task more manageable.”

“An excellent idea, Faramir. We might even consider asking my brothers to see if they would be interested in assisting in the training; their skills and experience are unrivalled and they have expressed a wish to spend some time exploring Ithilien. I will sound them out later.”

The King had not missed the signs of exhaustion that Faramir was trying his best to disguise and so before they moved on to discuss other business he sent for refreshments, the loud, persistent rumbling of Faramir’s stomach contradicting his assertion that he was not hungry.

For more than an hour they discussed the reports and decisions taken in council during the King’s absence and for a little while Faramir was able to push to the back of his mind the other business that still needed attending to. Their discussions were interrupted by the Chamberlain.

“Sire, the Queen was wondering if it is your wish for a Court Banquet in the main Hall tonight or would you prefer a quiet dinner in your apartments?” The King pushed idly at his hair, the last thing he wanted after two weeks in the saddle and sleeping on the cold ground was a formal Court occasion to mark his return.

“I think we will leave the Banquet until tomorrow. Tonight we will have a quiet family dinner, especially as Prince Legolas and Lord Gimli have not returned with us.”

“Yes, Sire. Thank you, I will see that it is arranged according to your wishes.”

Faramir hadn’t been paying much attention to the exchange, noting only that the King was wanting a private evening with his family, until the King’s comment about Legolas and Gimli’s continued absence awoke his attention with a jolt, so shocked that he surged to his feet.

“Why did Legolas not return? Is there a problem? Is he injured, Sire?”

If the King was surprised by his questions he suppressed it in his concern for Faramir’s obvious distress. “Peace, Faramir, there is no need for such concern,” the King soothed ushering Faramir back into his seat. “Legolas wished to spend more time surveying the woods of Ithilien to try to find an ideal site for his own settlement. He will return in a few days.”

“I thought I would be the one to show him!” Faramir whispered, “I wanted to share that with him. . .”

“There will be many other opportunities, Faramir. . . What is really bothering you? Legolas’ absence is only temporary, he will be back before you realise.”

Faramir really did mean to confess, had been planning how to begin his confession during the long trek up to the Citadel. The words that sprang from his mouth took even him by surprise.

“I’m fine, Sire.” Once said they couldn’t be taken back and he dug himself even further into a hole, “I’m just tired, Sire, it was a long night!”

“Ah, yes, the fire! Tell me about it, Faramir. What was the damage?”

“The stables and barracks were destroyed, Sire, and we lost a row of cottages in trying to keep the blaze contained.”

“And casualties?”

“Two men presumed dead, one was the night watchman who raised the alarm and the other a stable lad, they were both still in the stables trying to rescue the horses when the roof collapsed. We lost several horses, although we are not yet sure of the exact number.”

“What about other injuries?”

“Several men with burns, some quite serious I believe, though I haven’t yet had a chance to check in with the healers. I understand Lord Elrond and his sons are assisting with the wounded, Sire.”

“And what of you, Faramir, that bruise isn’t from the night’s alarms, I deem.”

“No, Sire. . .it was nothing. I-I bumped my head . . .I was tussling with the Hobbits.” Faramir flinched to hear his own words. The King didn’t appear entirely convinced of his explanation but seemed willing to give him the benefit of the doubt given his obvious exhaustion.

“You need to rest, Faramir. Enough of duty for today.”

“Yes, Sire, by your leave.” Faramir saluted. Rather than just allowing him to depart, the King draped an arm across his shoulder and led him to the door.

“You did well while I was away; I couldn’t have left the city in safer hands. You have my thanks and my gratitude.”

“Th-thank you, Sire. It is my pleasure and privilege to have your confidence.”

All the way back to his chambers he cursed and berated himself for his cowardice and stupidity. He ‘had’ meant to confess . . . he just wanted to take his foolishness to Legolas and allow his Elven Prince to relieve him of the burden of guilt. He didn’t want to have to confess his childish actions to the King and risk undoing the King’s good opinion of him. It was easier, safer to confess to Legolas. . . and now he had compounded all of his previous errors, had deceived the King, knowing that it was only a matter of time before his actions were revealed in all their gut-churning awfulness.

“Tamir, I told you to go and rest!” The adjutant was waiting for Faramir when he reached his chambers.

“Forgive me, Sir, but I have bathed and rested and eaten. I feel much better and I wanted to make sure you were attended to, Sir,” he explained, helping Faramir to remove his soiled and smoky outer garments. “There is a hot bath ready for you, Sir and I had the kitchen send you up a snack to keep you going until dinner is announced.”

“I won’t be attending the dinner. The King and Queen are having a private family reunion.”

“Bu-but you are family, Sir!”

“The King was quite specific, I wouldn’t dream of intruding on a private occasion.”

But, Sir. . .!”

“No Tamir, enough. It’s alright, I just need to sleep. Ask the kitchens to send up a light super at sundown,” Faramir instructed, heading for the bath.

“Estel, I really don’t think we can wait dinner any longer, it isn’t fair to keep the staff waiting.”

“Very well, I’m sure Faramir will be here shortly.”

“Do you want me to send a messenger to remind him of the time?”

“No, I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Come, let us lead the others,” Estel took Arwen’s arm and led the rest of the guests to their places.

“Ada, what news from the Healing Houses?” Estel asked when they were all seated.

“Better than I first feared. One young stable hand may not survive his injuries but the others should all recover, given time and good fortune.”

“It seems we were lucky, from what Faramir said the casualties and damage could have been much greater.”

“You can thank Faramir that they were not. I spoke to the Watch Commander and he lays much of the good fortune to Faramir’s timely intervention; his decision to demolish that row of buildings saved goodness knows how many lives and homes. He copes well in a crisis,” the Elf Lord affirmed.

“Aye, he seems to have coped well with all his extra duties in my absence, though I fear he has exhausted himself dealing with the fire, he has not yet regained complete fitness.”

It was one of those unfortunate accidents of timing that Pippin’s urgent and worried voice piped up just as the general hubbub of conversation died down. “You don’t think he’s collapsed again do you? Perhaps I should run and check on him!” Pippin yelped as a sharp kick urged him to silence but the damage was already done. The question hung in the air amid the awkward silence. The Hobbits started chattering; hoping to cover the blunder but one glimpse at the King’s thin-lipped visage confirmed that he had not missed the significance of the exchange.

“Would someone like to tell me exactly what is going on?” The words were barely a whisper but they carried all the weight of Kingly authority.

“Pippin?”

“I-I. . .”

“Ada?”

“Estel, perhaps now is not the best time or place to discuss this.”

“Perhaps if I had some idea of what ‘this’ is, I would be in a better position to judge! I take it that it has something to do with my errant Steward?”

“It does, but I can assure you that there is nothing to be alarmed about. Put this aside for now, my Son, I will explain all later.” The King nodded his assent and the company continued with their meal. It proved impossible, however, to recapture the easy relaxed atmosphere of the gathering and the guests made their excuses at the earliest opportunity.

When Tamir answered the discrete knock on the door to the Steward’s chambers later that evening it was to find the King on the threshold.

“Good evening, Tamir. I am here to enquire after Lord Faramir.”

“Good evening, Sire.” The youngster gulped, saluted and stood back to allow the King entry. “I’m afraid Lord Faramir has already retired for the evening, Sire.”

“We missed him at dinner. Was he unwell?”

“Oh, no!” the young adjutant looked stricken; “I knew it was a mistake. I tried to assure him he was mistaken!”

“Mistaken about what, Lad?”

“The dinner, Sire. Lord Faramir was convinced that it was a private occasion and that he was not…!”

“Not what?”

“Well, he said it was family only, Sire,” Tamir explained, cringing at the look of frustration that flashed across the King’s face.

“Is he actually asleep, Tamir,” the King growled.

“Yes Sire, he took a dose of Lord Elrond’s medicine a couple of hours ago. Why, Sire?”

“Because I’m very tempted to go in there and shake him until he rattles. . .of all the idiotic. . .!”

“Sire, is my Lord in trouble?” The King was alert to the youngster’s genuine concern and he pushed aside his own irritation.

“Sit down, Tamir, and tell me what’s on your mind?” It took a few false starts before the overawed youngster could order his thoughts.

“It’s just that it’s been a very difficult week. . .what with one thing and another, and then with the fire and your return. . . Well, he seemed rather agitated when he returned from your meeting, Sire,” the boy whispered, a picture of misery.

“I’ve been informed of some of the matters that may have been causing him some anxiety!” the King said, with a gentle grin.

“Did he tell you himself, Sire?”

“No, he did not and I’ll admit that that omission concerns me more than his actual misdeeds.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to deceive you, after all he knew that you would learn of it sooner rather than later. He. . . well, he seemed most distressed by the unexpected absence of Prince Legolas, Sire.”

“Oh. . .oh, I see.” And suddenly he did see; suddenly Faramir’s actions and his reluctance to admit his misdeeds made some sort of sense. The friendship and bond that Legolas had built with the young Steward had quickly become an important support and it was that friendship that marked the difference between how he related to Legolas and the King. The King had his loyalty and his duty but he was still in awe of the Monarch; Legolas, despite his superior age and his royal status was first and foremost his friend, a mentor happy to see him through good times and difficulties, happy to provide firm, and occasionally corporal attention when Faramir’s tendency to risk his own health and wellbeing needed to be reined in. Estel pushed down his own sadness that he had yet to really gain Faramir’s friendship and realised that he had a valuable ally sitting right in front of him.

“Tamir, you seem to be itching to say something, won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” the King urged the young Adjutant

“Sire, I’ve come to know his Lordship quite well over the last few months and, well, he’d rather bite off his own arm than disappoint you. He was so focussed on keeping on top of everything that he pushed himself a little too far. . .set himself almost impossible standards. He just wanted to prove to you that you could rely on him, Sire”

“I already know that I can,” The King assured him. “Tell me, Tamir, does he confide in you?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t presume to share his confidence. I’m not really sure that he confides in anyone. He is a very private man, Sire!”

“Then how. . .?”

“If we’re working late I often bed down on a cot in the small ante-chamber next to Lord Faramir’s. . . Lord Faramir’s dreams are not quiet, Sire, especially when he has something on his mind. . .which is most of the time!”

“Not a new problem, Tamir, and I thank you for your concern and your insight. I want you to know that we appreciate all you are doing for Lord Faramir and I hope you know that you can bring your concerns to me or to Prince Legolas at any time.”

“I wouldn’t want to break his trust, Sire.”

“Nor would I ask you to but if you had a real concern I’m sure you could find a way to alert us without compromising your duty to Lord Faramir. You do not have to bear the burden of concern alone,” the King reassured him.

“Yes, Sire. . . Are you still cross with him, Sire?”

“Worry not, Tamir, I may threaten and bluster but I would never hurt him. You do believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sire. . .though I may need to stock up on his Lordship’s stock of Lord Elrond’s ‘cooling lotion’!” the youngster exclaimed. If the King was surprised by the youngster’s nerve he chose to hide his amusement.

“Do you disapprove of my methods, Tamir?”

“Oh, no, Sire. Lord Faramir has had a hard and lonely life, full of grief and pain. I’m relieved that he has found a safe haven within you circle . .even if it does mean he has difficulty sitting comfortably. I’m glad he has your attention and care, Sire; I don’t know anyone who deserves it more, he deserves to know some peace and tranquillity.”

The King’s eyes sparkled. “You stock up on your salve and I will do my best to earn your trust and chase away his demons.”

“Yes, Sire,”

“. . . and tell Lord Faramir that I will expect him in my chambers in the morning after he has taken the Duty Officer’s report.”

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