Faramir Fiction Archive

Seeking (G)

Written by Shireling

27 June 2005 | 45981 words

Chapter 8>

As Legolas and I traversed the corridors the short distance between my own quarters and those of the Steward I was conscious of the strand of anxiety that squirmed uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. My Ada’s words of warning tumbled and roiled around my thoughts. ‘Estel, what you propose is not without risk! You must proceed with caution. Faramir has been brought to the edge, to a point of crisis; it will take little to push his into the abyss.’

Yes, I had said to my Ada that it was my intention to push him over the edge, and that was still what I planned but I was very aware of the risk I was running. If Legolas was correct in his assumptions, that Faramir had found neither rest nor peace in his time away, then it followed that Faramir’s condition would be even more fragile than previously. Now we had to contend with not only his precarious emotional state but with his physical debility. Yes, we would indeed have to proceed with caution.

I did not take Legolas into my full confidence, not wanting to put him in a position where his intuitive reaction to my proposals could jeopardise the outcome; I wanted his reaction to be instinctive. I asked him to come with me, to stay for the duration of the ‘interview’, however long that took, to support Faramir in whatever manner he could and, most importantly, not to interfere except to prevent Faramir leaving should he appear ready to bolt. I could see that he desperately wanted to question my instructions, to know my intentions but my expression must have told him that more information would not be forthcoming. As we reached the door to Faramir’s chambers Legolas stopped me and turned me so that we faced each other.

“Are you sure of what you intend, My Friend!” he asked, a serene and contemplative expression radiating from his beautiful face. There was no trace of doubt or hesitation in his question, just a questing for reassurance.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I pulled his head towards me until our brows touched; a salute to express my gratitude at his confidence in me. “Come, we will see this through together,” I said as I ushered him through the door to Faramir’s chamber.

Legolas hadn’t been gone for long but in that time Faramir had evidently worked himself into a state of considerable anxiety. His plate of food remained uneaten and he was pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

“Legolas what kept you? I thought you would never… SIRE!…I-I was not… I would have come to you… !” He stuttered to a painful silence and his restless pacing ceased, his frantic gaze shifting between Legolas and myself.

My presence in his room was a shock; he had been expecting Legolas to come and escort him to me.

“Peace, Faramir,” I said attempting to placate him. I kept my place near the door, giving him time to accept the reality of my presence.

Legolas was not so reticent; he moved in close, keeping just enough distance so as not to crowd Faramir. He raised his hands slowly in a gesture of reassurance.

“It is alright, Faramir. All will be well! Trust that we will look after you,” he soothed. Faramir stood as rigid as a statue only his eyes darting anxiously between us.

“I am yours to command Sire!” His voice was quiet, dignified. He stood to attention, his expression chillingly blank, his emotional detachment slamming into place.

Legolas flashed me a glance full of concern as he recognised Faramir’s withdrawal. I signalled for him to allow me to handle the next few minutes. I moved slowly and with great care, not wanting to alarm Faramir further. I moved a chair so that the two easy chairs faced each other by the hearth and took a seat. I addressed Faramir, my words quiet but firm.

“Captain Faramir! Come Sir, we have much to discuss!” indicating that he should take the vacant seat. After only a moments hesitation he complied, though he moved woodenly, as if his limbs wanted to disobey his body’s commands.

“Sit, Captain!”

“Sire, I would rathe… .”

“Sit down, Sir!” I ordered. He sat down on the edge of the seat, every muscle thrumming with tension.

“As I said, we have much to discuss!” I started, “but first I would have you tell me how your fare?” As I spoke, I reached over the gap between us and moved to feel the pulse at his wrist. He pulled his arm away but I refused to retreat and kept my hand extended until he reluctantly held out his hand for me. His skin was cool and dry with no obvious evidence of fever. His pulse was steady and regular, if somewhat fast but I accounted for that by his obvious state of anxiety.

“I am fine, Sir!” he asserted.

“Fine!” I snorted.

“Yes, Sire. I am fine, well, healthy… .you need not concern yourself… I am fine!” Again his depleted emotional state was affecting his communication skills. He had the grace to blush when I raised an eyebrow at his tone.

“You mean fine apart from the fact that you weary to the point of exhaustion,” I countered. He dropped his head and fiddled with the edge of his tunic.

“So now that we have settled that you are ‘fine’,” I continued, “we now need to address the issue of your unauthorised absence!” He nodded miserably.

“I’m sure that you agree that having been called to account once before for leaving the city without permission that I cannot allow this latest transgression to go unanswered!”

“No, Sire. I know that I must make amends… I will submit to your punishment… I expect you to punish me… I need to be relieved of burden of my disgrace!”

“Faramir, there is no disgrace! You erred, yes but there is no disgrace.”

“But there is, Sire! You must see that… you must help me… with my father gone, there is no other help for me!” He was becoming agitated and I wanted to comfort him.

“Gently now, Faramir. We will talk this through… We will not leave you with your distress,” I said. I beckoned Legolas over and he sat on the arm of my chair; I hoped his presence would offer Faramir some reassurance.

“Tell me Faramir, how would your Father have dealt with this matter?”

“I don’t know! I would never have dared to attempt such a thing!” he whispered. I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty.

“Then how do you expect me to deal with you?”

He jumped up out of his seat and strode purposefully over to a large oak chest; he lifted the iron bound lid and retrieved something from its depth. My stomach knotted as I realised what he carried. He held a riding crop resting across his open palms and he presented it to me as though it were something precious.

“Faramir, I cannot do what you ask. Nothing you could do would deserve this!” I explained gently.

“But you must, Sire,” he cried. He was pacing again. “You said you would not leave me with this torment… .you promised!” He was beyond reason now, lost in an enveloping fog of distress. “Are you going to let me down too?…is there no one who will help me! Legolas, please, you claim to be my friend… prove it too me now! Help me!”

I motioned for Legolas to stand back.

“Captain Faramir! Hold!” I ordered and his years of unquestioning obedience came to the fore and he immediately drew himself to attention. “That is enough, Sir. I said that we would discus this and we will do so calmly. Now please, sit down!” He complied reluctantly and slumped back into his seat, his head burrowed into his hands. I took a minute to go over to Legolas and whisper some words of reassurance to calm his distress at Faramir’s outburst.

“Now, Faramir! You are asking me to do something which goes against all that I believe to be reasonable or just. Before I can even consider your request I must know exactly what I would be committing myself to!” Legolas was on his feet at my words, his expression shocked and startled and I had to quickly quell his intervention.

“No, Legolas.Let him speak! Let him tell us of what he has endured so that we may understand.” I turned my attention back to the sad, fragile youngster.

“You must also understand, Faramir, that for me to accede to your request there would be conditions attached!”

“Whatever you say, Sire. I will do whatever you ask!”

“Tell me then, Faramir, how is this feat accomplished? Tell me the procedure? How did your father conduct these proceedings” I urged. I handed him the crop and he twisted it within his hands.

“My father would question me about my actions, exacting the detail until he had a full understanding of my transgressions. Then he would lecture me at length about my shortcomings, making sure that I understood his feelings on the matter and his disappointment in my behaviour; highlighting my weaknesses and failures so that I would understand what I needed to do to avoid repeating those failures,” he said softly

“Go on, Faramir. Tell us what happened then?” I urged.

“Then he would ask me what I deemed to be a suitable punishment for my failures.”

“You mean he made you decide your own punishment!” Legolas was almost bursting with indignation at the blatant cruelty of Denethor’s actions.

“Yes, I would name the tariff,” he confirmed.

“And did he always agree with the tariff you set?” I questioned.

“If he thought it sufficient he would administer the tariff I had declared but if he thought I was being too lenient he would chastise me for my dishonour and cowardice by doubling the tariff!”

“And did he do that often?”

“No, after the first couple of times I made sure that he never had cause to accuse me of cowardice.”

“And you did that by deliberately setting a harsh tariff, one that he couldn’t argue with!” I gasped.

“Yes,” he whispered

“And then what?” I asked.

“Then I would fetch the lash or the cane from his chamber and go to the old library and prepare myself. I would strip off my shirt and boots and place the ‘instrument’ on the chair for him and then I would wait for him to come and deal with me.”

“And did he always send you to the old library?”

“Mostly, yes. Though sometimes if he was particularly angry or in a hurry to get it over with he would deal with me wherever we happened to be… usually in his office or here in my chamber; he would have me lean over a chair or a desk.”

“And when he was done, did he comfort you?” Legolas asked, almost begging for some crumb of comfort to ease the horror of his tale.

“No, never… I don’t remember him ever offering me a comforting touch in my whole life… he beat me and then I would dress myself and thank him for his attentions and he would sweep out without a word… just as I was expected to endure his ‘attentions’ without cry or complaint… once the punishment was decided the whole process was conducted on his part in silence!”

The bleak horror of his words was almost too much to bear but it explained so much; his stoic acceptance, his rejection of physical comfort, his sense of failure; who could grow up under such a regime and come out whole. His heart had been broken time and again by ill treatment and emotional neglect, by deliberate cruelty and by grief; not even Boromir’s support and love could bolster him against such constant hurts.

Listening to him recount his narrative one could almost believe he was reciting a duty report, rather than a catalogue of abuse that had left him beaten bloody. His manner was detached, his expression blank.

The same could not be said of Legolas; I glanced over to him and recognised the look of ill concealed fury in his expression. He nodded to me indicating that he wished to step outside for a minute; I don’t think he trusted himself to remain in the room. He stalked outside, his usual graceful stride disrupted by the angry tension that enveloped him. I envied him the opportunity to leave; I too wanted to explode at the cruelty and injustice heaped upon this sad but beautiful soul but if my plan was to succeed I would need to remain and to keep my feelings in check.

During this brief interlude of contemplation Faramir remained silent, absently twisting the crop within his fists, his mind away from the here and now.

“You told that well, Faramir. Thank you,” I said. “I believe I now understand the process!” He seemed to come back to himself as I spoke and he looked around for a moment in confusion.

“Where’s Legolas?”

“He will return shortly, he had to step out,” I explained. I was gratified that Faramir had noticed his absence. It was an encouraging indication that he did indeed seek reassurance in my fair Elf’s presence. When Legolas did return I noticed that Faramir did seek his gaze and they exchanged a glance of acknowledgement. Small steps indeed!

“Faramir, I know now what it is you ask of me. Now we need to discuss what has led us to this point. I need you now to tell me of your transgressions so that we may move forwards a conclusion of this matter.”

“Yes, Sire.” He paused and took a sharp breath before beginning his catalogue of transgressions.

“Sire, I abandoned my duties on two occasions. I left the city knowing I did not have your permission to leave; I took an inadequate escort, thereby putting myself and my men at risk. I ignored the fact I had not received authority from the Warden to return to active service. I failed to keep you fully informed of Lord Harmil’s attempts to alter the trading controls. I shamed you and your council by attacking Lord Harmil and in my weakness caused upset to two of your honoured companions!”

“Thank you, Faramir… that is quite a list, though I feel that some of these matters have already been addressed!”

“Addressed, yes, Sire… but not atoned for!”

“I see… So we have now established the matters that need to be dealt with. I would ask you now to tell me what you think is a suitable tariff to answer for these misdeeds… “

“Sire! I… “

“A moment, My Lord. I would first remind you that I expect you to pronounce a fair sentence… you do not need to prove your bravery or fortitude to me. If I believe you to be over-harsh in your assessment I will reduce the tariff! I am not here to subjugate or condemn you, Faramir. As I have said before I think this action to be unwarranted and the only reason that I am even considering your request is that I have seen your distress and realise that you believe this to be the only solution!”

“Sire, you cannot do this!…this is not right!” Legolas exclaimed, his voice tight with anger and disbelief.

“Legolas! Hold! If you cannot abide by my wishes and instructions then I will compel you to leave. You know my instructions… Trust that I know what I am doing!” My voice was perhaps sharper than I intended but my own anxiety was mounting.

“My apologies, Estel! Forgive my interruption.” I flashed him a grateful smile and turned my attention back to Faramir.

“So Faramir, what is your judgement? What is a fair accounting for your actions?”

He seemed thrown by my strictures and he looked down at the crop that he still twisted within his grasp.

“Twenty… I would say twenty would answer for all, Sire!”

“I see… that is harsh indeed. What would you have said to Steward Denethor if he stood in judgement in my place?” I queried.

“Double that amount, Sire!” he whispered.

“And would he have accepted your tariff?”

“I couldn’t say, Sire… I believe he would have thought it sufficient… but then he was ever unpredictable in these matters. Do you… do you wish me now to go to the Old Library to prepare, Sire?”

“No that will not be necessary; we will conclude this business here in the privacy of your chambers. I believe that this desk will answer for our purposes,” I said, taking the crop from him. I cleared the desk-top of the clutter of books and parchments and placed the crop on the side.

With my back to Faramir I mouthed ‘Ware!’ to Legolas; we were now at a critical point and I wanted Legolas to be on guard and to be ready to take action if it should prove necessary. I sincerely hoped it would!

I motioned Faramir forward until he stood beside the desk. I carefully raised a hand to his face and lifted his chin up until his eyes met mine. He quailed at the contact but did not back away.

“Faramir, you know that what you have asked of me goes against all that I believe to be just and fair. I do not believe that there is any transgression that you could commit that I would say calls for such a savage reaction. But you have asked, begged me to do this and I know that you truly believe this to be the only answer. I give you one final chance to step back from this path… indeed you would have my gratitude! There will be no disgrace or shame attached. Please,” I urged “release me from this, Faramir!”

“I cannot, Sire. Please don’t ask that of me… Please, don’t turn me away now… how will I ever know peace!” he begged. I studied him and he didn’t flinch from my gaze or give any sign of weakening his stance.

I nodded. “Very well, Faramir. I explained at the outset that there would be conditions attached to my acceding to your wishes. You have fulfilled the first in bravely telling us of your father’s actions. I now call upon you to fulfil another condition!” I said. I removed my tunic and folded it over the back of a chair.

“What is that, Sire?”

“Honour and justice demand that I cannot subject another to a consequence that I am not prepared to suffer… I therefore demand that you administer the full tariff to me before I will proceed with your punishment!”

I handed him the crop and removed my undershirt, taking a position leaning over the desk, my arms supporting my weight. I sensed rather than saw Legolas move; he took a position between Faramir and the door and when I did finally catch his eye I saw a look of comprehension; he finally understood my intentions. Faramir’s reaction came as no surprise.

“NO! You cannot be serious!…do not jest with me..I cannot do that… I cannot hurt you, Sire…not you! It would be treason!”

“Not so! You are under orders… and you have Legolas to testify that I gave you those orders, Sir!… Proceed!” I hoped my words were stated with my intended firmness but in truth I was quailing inside.

“Legolas… help me! Make him see reason… help me! Please help me… I cannot do this!” he begged.

“I cannot countermand a valid order, Faramir. You are duty bound to fulfil the conditions you agreed too… I know you will do what’s right!” Legolas said gently.

“Sire, I beg you… I cannot do this… you have done nothing to deserve such an action… “

“Captain, proceed!” I ordered through gritted teeth. “Do not keep me waiting… I have not your courage or your fortitude… DO IT!”

He stood at my right side and I could sense the anxiety and stress radiating from him. I didn’t look up at him, not wanting to make this any harder than it already was. He placed his left hand on the desk for support and I felt the hand-warmed crop come to rest against my back, the shaking of his hand transmitted to my back through the touch of the crop. I flinched at the touch; the instinct for self-preservation urging me to move away from this source of danger; I gripped the tabletop and kept my position.

“Please, Sire… “ he whispered. A last desperate, tear-ridden plea.

“Proceed!”

I felt the whisper of air as the crop was raised above my quivering shoulders and I waited for the first blow to fall.

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