Faramir Fiction Archive

Seeking (G)

Written by Shireling

27 June 2005 | 45981 words

Chapter 3>

After Legolas took his leave I sat for some time in the deserted council chamber, seeking to calm and order my thoughts. Faramir’s outburst had been shocking because it had been so very unexpected and out of character. Now I had to deal with both his actions in the council and with his decision to ride out to Osgiliath without my knowledge or consent.

Aye, here was another of the burdens of Rule! Who does a King turn to when he cannot see the way forward?

My head tells me that I should treat him as I would my dear Elf had he committed such outrageous and foolhardy actions; to blister his backside until all hint of rebellion and guilt have been blasted away and then to comfort him and reassure him of my continued and everlasting love and support.

But my heart tells me I cannot treat Faramir in that manner. He already fears me! And though he would submit should I order him to, it would not reach the heart of him, the heart that needs my loving attention.

Because the two must go together, the correction and the comfort; if he cannot or will not allow himself the balm of comfort then I cannot subject him to the chastisement. I must somehow gain his trust! And soon, before he draws back so far that I cannot reach him.

“Sire!” A tremulous voice draws my attention to the doorway.

“Come, Faramir, we have much to discuss,” I say as I beckon him forward. I observe that he appears outwardly calm and collected, all evidence of his earlier agitation, and shakes, now gone.

He takes me by surprise by falling to his knees and clasping my hand, pressing my ring to his forehead in a gesture of abject humiliation. “Please forgive me, Sire. I beg you… forgive me!”

Knowing how he withdraws from physical contact I am surprised by his gesture and by the fact that he remains in place. This must be acutely uncomfortable for him but he made this first tentative move and I must tread carefully so as not to overwhelm him. I raise him up and invite him to sit with me that we may work through the events of the day. But he refuses to sit, needing the outward trappings of formality to weather this necessary confrontation. I cannot remain seated while he stands before me like an errant schoolboy and so I pace, not angrily or from agitation but simply because it helps me to think.

“Faramir, you have asked for my forgiveness and I give it wholeheartedly.” He was standing to attention, only his eyes following my progress and at my words some of the rigid tension seemed to seep from his shoulders. “But you must understand that I cannot allow such transgressions to go unanswered!”

“I’m so sorry, Sire. My actions were unforgivable… I let you down and disgraced my Office. What would you have me do… I will take myself from your service, resign the Stewardship, and retire from the city… .” He looked stricken, as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It was distressing to see the depth of his self-condemnation and I knew I had to step in quickly before he again retreated within himself

“Peace, Faramir. That will not be necessary. I would not lose your company or your expertise because of these matters… they were serious, yes, but not so serious that I would banish you from my side or my service.”

“I-I-d-don’t understand, Sire!”

“Faramir, you made mistakes, errors of judgement… and that is allowed, we all make mistakes. We are both of us human, with all the frailties and weaknesses of our race; none of us are infallible!”

I almost laughed then at his outraged expression and with a flash of insight something that Legolas had said came to mind… ‘It is not you he fears; your position, maybe, your authority.’ Ah, wise, wise Elf! Faramir looks on me and he sees… not a man… not a fallible human but a ‘King’! Little wonder that he is so uncomfortable, so overwhelmed in my presence. If only he knew!

“Your first misjudgement was to leave the city without my knowledge or consent and your actions in the council compounded that first error, indeed I believe that your loss of control was as a direct result of the first misdemeanour. But we both know that all of our actions carry consequences and I would have us now discuss you actions so that I may judge how best to help you atone and seek absolution.” He nodded dejectedly.

“Tell me about the summons from Osgiliath?”

“It wasn’t a summons, as such, Sire,” he said warily.

“And yet it had you chasing off across the Pelennor without a second thought!” I challenged.

“Beregond sent a request for advice. He is new to command, Sire, and he is struggling with too little manpower and inadequate resources. He is a good man, a good Captain and I knew that if he felt it necessary to seek council then there would be good reason.”

“There are other experienced Commanders you could have sent to assess the situation. Why did you feel it necessary to deal with this in person?”

“Sire, I am your Captain General. I am responsible for all aspects of the military. It is my Duty to know what is going on… I have been remise in those duties… .”

“And what of your duty to me, to your Office?”

“I left everything up to date, Sire. My staff and the Garrison Commander were aware of my plans… “

“But your King was not!”

“No, Sire.”

“Tell me? Why did you not inform me of your plans?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary, Sire! I am in charge of the military and this was a military matter.”

“Really!” I was trying hard to quash a growing sense of exasperation. Did he really not see his error in this?

“So tell me, Captain, did you take an escort?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“A full escort?”

“An adequate escort, Sire” Another very ‘careful’ answer.

Adequate by whose reckoning?”

“Mine, Sire.”

“Yet apparently not to the duty officer… you overruled his recommendation that you take an escort of at least six troopers and instead insisted on taking just two… who just happened to be the youngest and most inexperienced in the platoon!”

“I thought it would be a good experience for them; showing my confidence in their abilities!”

My pacing was definitely no longer relaxed; I was uptight, cross and ready to throttle him.

“So you had confidence that should you encounter one of the rogue bands that still roam the countryside your two troopers would be able to protect you?”

“I don’t need protecting; I am perfectly capable of defending myself!” He was angry now and trying desperately not to show it.

“Are you?” The question hung in the air and I let him squirm.

“I was under the impression that the Warden had not yet passed you as fit for active service. Am I mistaken?”

“No, Sire… but it is just a technicality… he is being overly cautious… on your orders no doubt!”

This last aside was whispered, not really intended for my ears. I held his gaze until he looked away, an impressive blush painting his face. I walked over and opened the chamber door and spoke to one of the guards. I returned carrying Faramir’s sword. I carried it across my palms and indicated that he should take it. When he had it in a firm grip I took hold of his wrist and raised his arm until it was extended level with his shoulder; arm and sword parallel to the floor.

“Sire?”

“Indulge me, Faramir,” I said, letting go of his wrist and letting him bear the weight of the sword with his outstretched arm.

Within moments he was struggling, his teeth gritted in an attempt to ride out the pain and the weakness in his shoulder. Sweat beaded his face as his arm shook and despite his best efforts the weight of the sword pulled it down. I could not let this go on.

“Enough!” I said gently, taking the sword from his hand. “Do you still insist that you are, at present, capable of defending yourself?” I asked.

He had no answer. He swiped the sweat from his face with his hand, humiliated at having his weakness so clearly demonstrated.

“I do not do this to shame or belittle you, Faramir,” I said gently, “merely to point out that you are not yet fully recovered and that to ride out as you did without adequate escort or protection was an act of self-indulgent folly. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Sire!”

“So tell me again why you did not seek my permission to ride to Osgiliath?”

“Because… because I knew… I knew that you would not allow it, Sire.”

“So instead of risking my refusal, you sidestepped the issue of permission entirely! Yes?”

“Yes, Sire… I’m sorry!”

“HMMm! Sorry for what you did or sorry that you were caught out?”

“Both, Sire.” He whispered.

I couldn’t help but smile at his pout. “Thank you for your honesty.” He looked up and saw my smile before dropping his head down to continue his examination of the tiles at his feet.

“So now we come to today’s debacle?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Why did you miss the beginning of the meeting?”

“It was my intention to get back in good time, Sire. We left at first light with fresh horses and were making good progress… and then my horse pulled up lame. I couldn’t take one of the other horses and leave one of the troopers to make their way back alone, nor would they allow me to travel ahead on my own. We stayed together and began walking until we met up with a patrol; we split up and I came back with half of the patrol and my escort made their way back with the others.”

“I see. Well at least in that you showed good judgement!”

“Thank you, Sire!” I looked up sharply at the sarcasm in his tone.

“Forgive me Sire, that was… forgive me!”

“Certainly! So to continue… You returned tired, hungry and no doubt worried about your reception.” He nodded. “And so with barely time to wash and change and grab a bite to eat you found yourself in Council.” He nodded again and I could see from his posture and the way his breathing had changed to rapid, shallow gasps that the full memory of the events had crashed into him with all the awful, gut-wrenching mortification of the earlier altercation.

“Easy, Faramir, we will discuss this calmly.” I fetched us each a small glass of wine, giving him time to compose himself.

“Sire, he has been manoeuvring behind the scenes for weeks to get me to open up trade. I told him that I would not bring it before the council until the situation in the city was more settled. I know that he resented my actions but I never thought he would stoop to such underhand tactics, Sire.”

“I do understand, Faramir. Lord Harmil used your absence to his own advantage and I hadn’t a good enough grasp on the situation to ask the right questions. I do not fault you for bringing the affair to my attention, Faramir. I am pleased that you had the knowledge and the confidence to fight for what you believed to be right… However I do have a problem with the manner of your intervention!”

“As my Steward I expect you to uphold the honour and dignity of your Office, to lead by example and to maintain the highest standards. I will not tolerate being spoken to in that manner! Nor will I tolerate my Council meetings being turned into a brawl, violence has no place within my Council… Is that CLEAR!” He was back to attention now, his expression neutral and his hooded eyes fixed on a point beyond my shoulder.

“Is that Clear, Captain?” I repeated.

“Yes, Sire.”

“What Lord Harmil said was cruel and unforgivable but you should have allowed me to deal with it. You let your emotions get in the way of good judgement. I will expect you to apologise to the whole Council when next we meet.”

“Yes, Sire, as you command.”

“Thank you. Another time if something comes up in Council that you think requires my attention and that you wish to discuss in private you have only to tell me. I will always adjourn the meeting to hear your thoughts. I value your council.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Now we just need to decide how to deal with consequences of your recent misdemeanours, Faramir. I know that you are sorry for what happened and I accept your apologies but I cannot in all conscience just allow these matters to stand. And yet I am at a loss as to how to proceed. I fear that I must think on this for a while… I do not like asking you to wait but… “

“You wish me to go and await your judgement, Sire!” he offered, his expression almost alarmingly blank.

“Yes… yes I think that would be best.”

“As you command, Sire.” He snapped the smartest salute and then turned on his heel. He walked away from me with his back straight and his shoulders proud and yet… and yet he carried an air of haunting vulnerability. I felt a pall of guilt at leaving him with matters unresolved between us but I had no clear idea yet of how to proceed.

I needed to consult wiser council.

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