Faramir Fiction Archive

Seeking (G)

Written by Shireling

27 June 2005 | 45981 words

Chapter 10 >

It was a quiet, peaceful vigil. From my chosen perch on the window-sill of Faramir’s chamber I kept a watchful guard, ready to move at the first sign of distress. As I watched I gained rest and comfort from the fragrant night-time air and the lilting lullaby of the breeze through the velvet darkness of the garden.

Faramir slept easily with no indication of nightmares or distress. He looked so fragile, so young in slumber, as if the weight of cares had slipped away, leaving him in his true state; as he should have been without a lifetime of sadness and grief to blight his youth and force upon him a maturity of spirit that far outpaced his mortal years.

He lay on his front, his arms furled around the pillow that supported his chest and head, his face turned towards me. He had not stirred all night, not since Lord Elrond and Estel had roused him at supper time to take a drink of warm broth, laced I suspect with another of the Healer’s potions.

I had the long night to think back on what had happened yesterday, on how we had finally guided Faramir to accept the care he so desperately needed and unconsciously craved. Each fresh remembrance of witnessing his heartrending anguish as he finally gave free-rein to his grief brought a fresh wash of tears to my own eyes. I let them fall; there was no one to witness them and those whose opinion mattered to me would not begrudge me my sorrow, indeed they would have supported or even joined me in acknowledging my pain.

It should not have surprised either of us that Faramir had fallen so quickly to sleep, especially given his exhausted state before we began but that he fell asleep in Estel’s arms did surprise and delight us both. It spoke of an underlying trust in us to keep him safe, and that degree of trust, given his previous experiences, was a blessing we had only hoped to see.

We sat for a long time with him cradled between us, neither wanting to cut short the blessed interlude or to risk disturbing his rest by moving him. But we could not stay like that indefinitely and it was with great reluctance that we lifted him gently into bed and settled him onto his front and tucked the covers around him; determined that no discomfort would disturb his rest.

Estel had asked me to stay with Faramir but I had needed no urging; I would not have left him, I did not want to risk him waking alone. His spanking had been sincere but lenient by Estel’s standard. He had been in no condition to receive the full ‘attentions’ of my dear friend; I have been on the receiving end of those attentions enough times to know that Faramir had indeed been let off lightly. But Estel had achieved his purpose; he had encouraged Faramir to accept his care and in doing so had allowed Faramir to begin to release some of the pent-up grief that was paralysing him. Faramir had surrendered himself in body and spirit, finally demonstrating his trust in us.

But both Estel and I both knew that it would not be enough! Faramir, in his exhaustion, had fallen asleep so quickly that we had not had the opportunity to reinforce the message of our unconditional love and support with our words and actions, indeed there was a real possibility that he had been so distraught that he would not remember much of what we had discussed both before and during his chastisement, when he awoke.

There were also other matters that needed to be addressed that had not been touched upon in that first difficult trip over Estel’s lap; it had been a first step but there would need to be other lessons and I knew that Estel would not wish to see these matters left neglected for too long. His concern for Faramir was too great for him to allow Faramir to suffer them for any longer than necessary. He had not stated a time but I knew it would not be long.

I heard the familiar footsteps in the corridor that preceded the quiet knocking on the door. Estel put his head around the door and at my beckoning him came inside, followed by a servant bearing a breakfast tray.

“How is he? Did he have a good night?” he asked, after silently observing the sleeping youngster for some moments.

“Perhaps Faramir would like to answer that himself!” I replied, sensing that Faramir was indeed awake, though his eyes were still closed. Estel grinned and tenderly brushed the tangled locks away from Faramir’s face seeking to get a better look at him.

“How fares my Steward this morning?” Faramir peeled open one eye, grunted an unintelligible response and buried his face into his pillow.

“Hm, as good as that! I see!” Estel smiled fondly

“As Faramir seems reluctant to give his own report this morning, Sire, I can tell you that he slept soundly and has barely moved since you and Lord Elrond tucked him up last evening!” I grinned.

“Come, Faramir, the cooks have provided all of your favourites for breakfast. You should eat it while it is hot. Oh, and Lord Elrond has sent along some more of his ‘special lotion’ to relieve your discomfort and allow you to sit comfortably while you eat!” Estel grinned, ruffling Faramir’s red-gold mane affectionately.

Even from the window I could see the heated flush that spread across his face. “Would you like some help applying it!” I teased, laughing at the muffled grunt that was Faramir’s only response.

“You did not object last night.” The opportunity to tease was just too good to resist.

“WHAT!”

He shot up out of bed then, flashing an outraged glare between Estel and myself, pouting to see our fond and teasing smiles. He all but snatched the pot of lotion from Estel’s hand and disappeared into his bathing chamber.

“I take it that’s a ‘no’ then!” I called after him, ducking the swat that Estel aimed at my ear.

“Behave, Legolas! Perhaps he does not share your wicked sense of humour first thing in the morning!” Estel chided, though not without a knowing grin.

“I know, but it just so good to see that spark from him, so much better than that awful passive acceptance we have seen recently.” I explained, helping Estel to straighten the bed and rearrange the pillows while Faramir was busy.

“He seems to have survived his ‘ordeal’,” I said quietly, not wanting to be overheard.

“Ay, but he has not yet had chance to think on it. Do not lower your guard too soon my friend, I suspect his emotions are still labile, I would rather he not be left alone today. Frodo has offered to visit with him later so that you can have a chance to get a change of scenery for a while.”

“But I am fine!” I explained, “I don’t want… need a change! I want to stay here!”

“Legolas, you will do as I ask.” Oh, Estel was in ‘command’ mode and I should have known better than to argue with him. “These last few days have been difficult for us all and you have shouldered a greater burden than any of us. I will not allow you to jeopardise your own well being. You WILL take a break later and leave Faramir in Frodo or Lord Elrond’s capable hands!”

“But Estel… !”

“Legolas, do I need to impress upon you the importance of following instructions!” Estel said in that tone of authority I recognised all too well, and ignored at my peril.

“No, I understand!” I accepted but I didn’t have to like it.

“Understand, what?” Faramir asked from the doorway.

“I was just impressing upon our Elf Friend here the importance of obeying instructions and reminding him of the consequences should he choose not to!” Estel explained, ushering Faramir back to bed and settling the breakfast tray on his lap. “It is a lesson you would do well to heed, Faramir,” he said, fixing him with a firm but gentle stare. Faramir nodded and flashed me an uneasy glance before turning his attention to his meal.

“Faramir, you are to remain here in your chambers, resting, until I give you leave to return to your duties. I want you to stay in bed today. You may have visitors but you are not to get up and dressed or to do anything related to work; your secretary has been instructed to pass all matters to my office for attention. Do I make myself clear, My Lord!” Estel instructed in a ‘no-nonsense’ manner.

“Yes, Sire… .but what will I do?”

“You will do nothing! You will rest or sleep, you may read or have someone read to you; you will relax and allow yourself the opportunity to recover. If you find that resting is impossible I will have Lord Elrond fix you up a sleeping draught, though I would rather you find rest naturally, it is not good to become dependant on potions to achieve peaceful, healing sleep,” Estel explained, first and foremost a healer

Faramir did indeed spend much of the morning sleeping. When awake he did try to read but it seemed that his book failed to hold his attention and he soon dozed off again, the book falling unheeded onto the quilt as he burrowed his way back down into the comforting embrace of his covers. We spoke very little and not at all about the events of yesterday, though I am sure they were never far from his thoughts. He needed time to process what had happened and how he had reacted to it. I knew the words would come eventually and I was quite happy to let him raise the matter in his own time.

Lord Elrond and Frodo both appeared at noon and after we had all shared a lunch-tide repast I was told, in no uncertain terms, to make myself scarce. I tried one last attempt at a reprieve but Lord Elrond turned his formidable raised eyebrow upon me and I knew that further pleading would avail me nothing. I retreated to my own chamber and after a long soak in a hot bath I donned fresh clothing and made my way to Arwen’s garden. I found Sam there helping Arwen and I joined in their efforts to tame some of the wildness that had overtaken the flower borders.

It was a relief to be in the fresh air and to feel the thrum of nature under my fingers. It was only as my tension and anxiety drained away that I realised how truly tense I had become and I soon succumbed to peaceful reverie, propped up against the smooth welcoming bole of stately rowan tree.

I was brought back to wakefulness late in the afternoon by a rather distraught Sam.

“Legolas, Mr Legolas, Sir… Please Sir, wake up! My Frodo is asking for you!” I quickly shook myself to full awareness.

“What is it, Sam?”

“Please. Mr Frodo needs you. I can’t find Lord Elrond or Strider and Mr Frodo seems dreadfully upset!” the little Hobbit cried, pulling me to my feet and attempting to make me move more speedily.

“Alright, Sam, tell me what happened?”

“I don’t rightly know, Sir. I took a tray full of refreshments to Lord Faramir’s room and when I got there the place was in uproar. Mr Frodo was trying to comfort Pippin who was in a dreadful state and Lord Faramir was nowhere to be seen… seems he shut himself in the washroom, Sir,” the Hobbit explained, short of breath from trying to keep up with my rapid steps.

“Forgive me Sam,” I said, slowing and shortening my stride.

“Never mind me, Sir, you get on as quick as you like, I’ll just follow on.” I took him at his word and hurried along to corridors to the Steward’s chambers.

On my arrival Frodo quickly filled me in on the essentials. It seems that when Lord Elrond was called away Pippin had joined Frodo in keeping Faramir company. They had been having a pleasant visit and during their reminiscences Pippin had told the tale of when Boromir had been instructing Merry and himself on how to use their swords. They had all laughed as Pippin recalled how he and Merry had set upon Boromir and then Aragorn until they were all tangled together in a writhing, tickling bundle. Faramir had joined in the laughter, until his laughter became desperate and his tears of mirth turned to anguish. He had bolted into the washroom leaving a bewildered Frodo to comfort Pippin who was rapidly becoming distraught at having upset Faramir for a second time.

“Frodo, you stay with Pippin and I will see to Faramir,” I instructed.

“Should I take him back to our rooms, Legolas?” Frodo asked

“No. It’s best if you stay here and we sort this out, otherwise we will end up with two guilt ridden souls both blaming themselves where it is not warranted!” I explained, dropping a kiss onto both curly heads.

I knocked on the door of the bathing chamber and called to Faramir; when I got no response I tried the handle. The door wasn’t bolted but something, or someone was impeding my entrance.

“Faramir, will you let me in? Come my friend; do not shut your self away!” I urged, continuing to push against the door firmly.

“… let me be!” I heard the quiet words, though they were no more than a strangled whister.

“No, Faramir. We told you that we would not leave you alone in your grief and I mean to honour that pledge! Move away from the door, Faramir!” I commanded. “Move away now, I am coming in.” I pushed more firmly and managed to open the door enough that I could squeeze through.

Faramir was sitting on the floor, his back to the door, his body curled in upon himself.

“Come, Little Ranger, what is this all about?” I asked. “What has got you and Pippin into such a state? I thought you were having a pleasant visit?”

I expected to find him weeping and though I could see tell-tale tear tracks on his pale cheeks he was eerily silent; he uttered not a word or a sound. The cost of this restraint however was immense, he was rigid, every ounce of strength utilised to keep his surging emotions in check. I had to force his chin up to get a look at his face; when he finally opened his eyes and met my gaze I was rocked by what he allowed me to glimpse.

I had expected to see pain or even anger, anger that I was forcing my presence upon him when what he sought was solitude. What I saw within the depths of his beautiful blue-grey eyes was fear, pure unadulterated fear. Just the sight of it made my blood run cold.

That this brave and fearless warrior could be bought to such extremes filled me with profound sorrow; he who had spent a lifetime facing constant danger, who had ridden to almost certain death without so much as a murmur, who had battled the most evil forces without flinching, reduced now to abject terror by the force of his own emotions. And he had allowed me to witness that fear.

“Help me! Please, help me!” his whispered plea shattered the silence, a call directed straight to my heart. For one brief moment I glimpsed into the very depths of his soul, a heartbeat later the shutters descended and he was closed to me.

I scooped him up from the floor and carried him to a bench. I set him down and then straddled the padded seat, pulling his hunched form against me. I rocked him, using my arms and my voice to try to sooth and comfort him. He was locked deep within himself, using every strategy he had ever mastered to lock down his emotions and protect himself from the ravaging tide that sought to overwhelm him.

I was filled with fear; afraid that I had not the skills or the wherewithal to help him. This situation was what I had feared, why I had not wanted to leave him. I hugged him tightly against me, wanting nothing more than to protect him from his pain.

With profound relief I heard Estel’s voice coming from the chamber beyond, no doubt summoned by the commotion. I couldn’t hear his words but the tone of his voice indicated that he was soothing and calming the Hobbits. I called to him and he poked his head around the door. I didn’t need to say any more, in one glance he had assessed and understood the situation. He went back to the chamber and with a few gentle words he ushered the Hobbits away, directing them to go and seek Arwen, trusting her insight and compassion to help ease their distress, while we concentrated on attending to Faramir.

Only when the door had closed on the Hobbits did he step into the chamber. He knelt on the floor before us and took Faramir’s face between his palms, examining the pale, closed countenance.

“How long has he been like this?” he asked, his eyes never leaving Faramir’s face.

“Since I arrived,” I explained. “He cried out for me to help him but he has not spoken since. I-I cannot reach him, Estel! He has gone too far!!” I whispered, unable to prevent my voice from breaking, so great was my concern.

“Faramir?” he called, his tone firm but insistent. “Faramir, look at me, my Steward … come back to us, Faramir… at once, Captain!” His gentle urging appeared to have no effect and Faramir remained unresponsive, locked within himself.

“It’s alright, Legolas! Do not fear, we will help him through this!” Estel soothed. “Come let us move to somewhere more comfortable!” he said, hefting Faramir’s rigid but unresisting body from my arms as though he weighed no more than a child and carrying him through to the bed chamber. I banked the pillows up against the head of the bed and Estel gently deposited Faramir against them, keeping an arm around his shoulders. I took my place on the other side of him, catching his hands in the hope that he would register my physical presence, that my touch would bring him comfort.

We sat with him for a long time but our presence seemed to pass unnoticed, he remained silent and unresponsive. I was becoming more and more anxious, the silence and my fear for him growing until I could bear it no longer.

“Enough!” I all but shouted. I pulled him towards me, supporting his chest against my arm and lifting him up off the mattress that I had room to administer three sincere swats to his backside.

I was rewarded with a shudder as his right hand shot back to protect his tender behind from further attention; even as Estel’s shocked voice called my name. I ignored Estel’s outraged tone and the glare he flashed in my direction, keeping my attention on Faramir.

“Do I have your attention now, Little Ranger?” I asked, landing a final swat and turning him to face me. Bewildered eyes finally focussed on me and I was relieved to see that Faramir was indeed back with us. I hugged him against me until I could feel the rapid, thundering of his heartbeat against my chest.

Only when I felt him calm and relax against me did I pull him away so that I could again see his face.

“Now, my brave, brave friend, you will tell us what happened!” I insisted firmly. “You are quite safe, we have you and will allow no harm to befall you… .you will tell us now!”

I spared a glance at Estel and whatever irritation he had felt at my unorthodox methods had clearly faded. I could still detect the undercurrent of concern in his expression but he was leaning back against the pillows, his arms folded across his chest and a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth that threatened the promise of retribution. He had obviously decided to leave Faramir to me; he flashed me a wink that spoke volumes of his confidence and trust in me to help our dear Steward through this crisis.

Faramir still had not spoken. Several times he drew in a breath and opened his mouth but no words came forth. He was clearly struggling to find a way to articulate his thoughts but it was all too big, too fearful, he still quaked under the enormity of his long suppressed emotions. He looked at me with an expression of such desperation that I realised that he simply did not have the wherewithal to display the ‘weakness’ of voicing his fears. I again cursed the baleful influence of Denethor’s legacy upon this sad and fragile human.

“Let me help you remember, Faramir!” I urged. “You were enjoying your visit with Pippin and Frodo, Yes!” He nodded. “Pippin was telling you a tale… a humorous tale of how he and Merry had set upon Boromir and Estel; reducing two great and noble warriors to writhing, giggling children… and you were all laughing! What happened then, Faramir?”

He took another deep breath and I could see the effort that it took for him to force the next words out.

“We were all laughing… I was laughing and laughing… .and I couldn’t stop… laughing so much it hu-hurt… and then I wasn’t laughing anymore… it hurt… hurt so much I couldn’t breath… big hu-hurt inside… !” he gasped, clutching at my tunic, face buried within the crook of his elbow.

“Easy, Little Ranger,” I soothed, tilting his face so that I could see him and he me. “Tell me what hurt you so deeply!”

“I could see it… see Boromir… hear his laugh… remember when he had wrestled me and tickled me until I begged for mercy… I remembered… .!”

“And the remembering frightened you?”

“Yes… No… no, not the memories… .not the remembering… the feelings!” He shuddered, his heart rate and breathing speeding and racing. “… the feelings, so big, so powerful … couldn’t breath… out of control… scared Pippin… scared me… “ he whispered, as though the very words themselves were a weakness he shouldn’t dare to utter. His hesitant, fear-filled eyes locked with mine, even as his tears spilled down his pale cheeks.

Yes this was what he feared, what terrified him, what he feared to show, to allow others to see. This brave and courageous man, felled by the enormity of his own emotions, emotions so long suppressed that he no longer knew how to ride out their assault. He had gifted us with his fear, with his vulnerability, allowed us to glimpse the very depths of his soul. I would honour that trust by gifting him with seeing my own heart.

I didn’t look away, didn’t even allow my eyes to blink. I opened myself to him, allowed his keen, perceptive gaze to see deep within me, to show him the depth of my love, the depth of my trust. I had to smile at the slowly dawning realisation that flickered, kindled, blazed across his understanding. He struggled out of my grasp and knelt on the mattress between Estel and me, facing us, his hands resting on his knees, panting for breath as though he had just run a race. He studied us, back and forth, seeking to find any trace of derision or condemnation and finding only fond regard, acceptance and affection.

“Oh… oh!” He fell forward, burying his face into the pillow between us and reaching out with each hand until he held onto our hand’s in a fierce grip, holding on to us as though his very life depended on maintaining that connection.

“Ay, my brave Steward,” Estel crooned, smoothing his free hand over Faramir’s red-gold locks. “There is no shame in tears, in expressing your emotions… .just let go, my dear friend… do not fear your feelings, Faramir. You loved Boromir! That love will stay with you even as your memories stay with you… .grieve for him… honour him with your tears, in time you will be left with only the good memories… .with the love… !” Estel choked, his own grief for our lost warrior sweeping through him.

Faramir looked up at the catch in Estel’s voice and seeing the tears on Estel’s cheeks seemed to release his own control; he let go of all restraint, howling and screaming his grief into his pillow, safe in the knowledge that he was safely anchored to us by his grip on our hands.

Safe. Accepted. Understood.

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