Post by Admin on Jan 9, 2021 16:48:11 GMT
Author: Archeress of Silverbow
Summary: Train a boy against his aptitude, ride alone on a suicide charge, or go with their captain on the mission… each in the name of love.
Rating: T
T.A. 2990
Denethor watched the two boys in the courtyard. The elder swung his sword with such ease it seemed part of his arm. But the younger one, sighing the steward shook his head. Clumsy to the point that it was liable to make him furious rather than amused.
“Faramir!”
The boy flinched, turning to look up at him “Yes sir?”
“Hold it properly boy, it’s a sword hilt, not reins.” He demonstrated the correct hold in the air then watched his son adjust his grip accordingly and take another swing at his brother, almost immediately glancing up to him, as if for approval.
“Get on with it” He snarled, turning away and ignoring Boromir’s stammered calls.
“Why, Denethor? Why must you treat Faramir so?”
The Steward raised his head to stare at his brother-in-law “This is a time of war, Imrahil. There is no use Him burying his head in books, he must learn to fight and fight properly.”
The Prince of Dol Amroth raised an eyebrow “sometimes War is won by knowledge as much as by force. Faramir uses a sword well enough, but his true mastery is of the bow. The captain of the rangers welcomes him to the fold as soon as he may
“Bah.” Denethor stood up, slamming his book shut “Arrows are a coward’s weapon, the tool for a man who doesn’t have enough courage to fight face to face with his enemy. Swords are the true weapon of a warrior.” He glared at the noble, who watched him with an expressionless face “By all of Mordor, Imrahil… I’m trying to keep the boy alive when he goes into battle. He must learn!”
Imrahil sighed wistfully “Thorongil never behaved like this”
“What do you know about the famous Captain Thorongil!” snapped Denethor, his eyes steely “He was a coward too, running from that final battle… Running to sauron most likely.”
“That I will not believe” challenged Imrahil, his own eyes like a thundercloud “He was the noblest and loyalist your father had. As he used to say ‘Dead is the man who fights in only one way, lost is the man who does not know tricks to escape’… Be careful you do not go too far, Kinsman” Imrahil gave a sharp nod and walked out, leaving Denethor staring after him.
T.A. 19th March 3019
“I’m coming with you Captain.”
Faramir tightened his horse’s girth one more hole, slowly and deliberately, before turning to face the solider. “I forbid it.”
The young man met his stern gaze “I can fight as well as any you have allowed to go.”
Faramir sighed “Berior… It is not in rejection of your bravery that I won’t let you ride out.” He stepped towards the solider “You have a young wife and a child on the way. This mission…” His throat closed on the next phrase and he had to swallow “This mission, is a suicide. None of us will be coming back. 30 families left without husband or brother or son… I do not wish to carry the knowledge that I deprived an unborn child of its father on my conscience.”
Berior shook his head, his face earnest “Then let it be on mine. Captain, this is my choice… Even if we die, my child will know I gave my life to protect Gondor, to serve my country… And my captain.”
Their eyes met for a long moment.
Faramir’s tone was warning “Gondor is more important than I, Berior. You and yours could serve under any captain and you would still serve your country.” He turned away, checking at Berior’s voice
But we don’t serve under anyone else Captain, we serve under you. And we trust you.”
He replied half choked with tears “I would die thirty deaths to prevent any of you riding with me…”
“By return Captain, there is not a man in the company that would not die for you…”
“Why?” It came out laced with bitterness “I’m nothing, not compared to Boromir.”
To his surprise it was not Berior but Damrod who answered “To us you are everything Faramir.”
He turned to face the other ranger “Yet it is known I would rather fight with a bow on the fringes than a sword in the middle. You know what my father thinks of that choice.”
The ranger inclined his head “I also know that all our company fight with bows by preference, yet I have seen you rush the fray to rescue the meanest of companions… you may not choose to fight Faramir, but when you have to, then you are the equal of any… even your brother.”
Faramir shut his eyes but felt his shoulders shudder and tears run down his cheeks. Then strong arms were enfolding him in an embrace. He leant into it, his starved mind briefly believing it was Boromir who held him, as he has done so many times in their childhood.
Finally Damrod released him and stepped back “May Oromë and Tulkas protect you, Captain.”
And now, as he spurred his horse and yelled the charge his heart both screamed and sang. He would fight to the end, for his father; who loved him in an obscure way, for Boromir, who’s place he now took, for Gondor… and for his men, to prove himself worthy of their loyalty… of their love.
Summary: Train a boy against his aptitude, ride alone on a suicide charge, or go with their captain on the mission… each in the name of love.
Rating: T
T.A. 2990
Denethor watched the two boys in the courtyard. The elder swung his sword with such ease it seemed part of his arm. But the younger one, sighing the steward shook his head. Clumsy to the point that it was liable to make him furious rather than amused.
“Faramir!”
The boy flinched, turning to look up at him “Yes sir?”
“Hold it properly boy, it’s a sword hilt, not reins.” He demonstrated the correct hold in the air then watched his son adjust his grip accordingly and take another swing at his brother, almost immediately glancing up to him, as if for approval.
“Get on with it” He snarled, turning away and ignoring Boromir’s stammered calls.
“Why, Denethor? Why must you treat Faramir so?”
The Steward raised his head to stare at his brother-in-law “This is a time of war, Imrahil. There is no use Him burying his head in books, he must learn to fight and fight properly.”
The Prince of Dol Amroth raised an eyebrow “sometimes War is won by knowledge as much as by force. Faramir uses a sword well enough, but his true mastery is of the bow. The captain of the rangers welcomes him to the fold as soon as he may
“Bah.” Denethor stood up, slamming his book shut “Arrows are a coward’s weapon, the tool for a man who doesn’t have enough courage to fight face to face with his enemy. Swords are the true weapon of a warrior.” He glared at the noble, who watched him with an expressionless face “By all of Mordor, Imrahil… I’m trying to keep the boy alive when he goes into battle. He must learn!”
Imrahil sighed wistfully “Thorongil never behaved like this”
“What do you know about the famous Captain Thorongil!” snapped Denethor, his eyes steely “He was a coward too, running from that final battle… Running to sauron most likely.”
“That I will not believe” challenged Imrahil, his own eyes like a thundercloud “He was the noblest and loyalist your father had. As he used to say ‘Dead is the man who fights in only one way, lost is the man who does not know tricks to escape’… Be careful you do not go too far, Kinsman” Imrahil gave a sharp nod and walked out, leaving Denethor staring after him.
T.A. 19th March 3019
“I’m coming with you Captain.”
Faramir tightened his horse’s girth one more hole, slowly and deliberately, before turning to face the solider. “I forbid it.”
The young man met his stern gaze “I can fight as well as any you have allowed to go.”
Faramir sighed “Berior… It is not in rejection of your bravery that I won’t let you ride out.” He stepped towards the solider “You have a young wife and a child on the way. This mission…” His throat closed on the next phrase and he had to swallow “This mission, is a suicide. None of us will be coming back. 30 families left without husband or brother or son… I do not wish to carry the knowledge that I deprived an unborn child of its father on my conscience.”
Berior shook his head, his face earnest “Then let it be on mine. Captain, this is my choice… Even if we die, my child will know I gave my life to protect Gondor, to serve my country… And my captain.”
Their eyes met for a long moment.
Faramir’s tone was warning “Gondor is more important than I, Berior. You and yours could serve under any captain and you would still serve your country.” He turned away, checking at Berior’s voice
But we don’t serve under anyone else Captain, we serve under you. And we trust you.”
He replied half choked with tears “I would die thirty deaths to prevent any of you riding with me…”
“By return Captain, there is not a man in the company that would not die for you…”
“Why?” It came out laced with bitterness “I’m nothing, not compared to Boromir.”
To his surprise it was not Berior but Damrod who answered “To us you are everything Faramir.”
He turned to face the other ranger “Yet it is known I would rather fight with a bow on the fringes than a sword in the middle. You know what my father thinks of that choice.”
The ranger inclined his head “I also know that all our company fight with bows by preference, yet I have seen you rush the fray to rescue the meanest of companions… you may not choose to fight Faramir, but when you have to, then you are the equal of any… even your brother.”
Faramir shut his eyes but felt his shoulders shudder and tears run down his cheeks. Then strong arms were enfolding him in an embrace. He leant into it, his starved mind briefly believing it was Boromir who held him, as he has done so many times in their childhood.
Finally Damrod released him and stepped back “May Oromë and Tulkas protect you, Captain.”
And now, as he spurred his horse and yelled the charge his heart both screamed and sang. He would fight to the end, for his father; who loved him in an obscure way, for Boromir, who’s place he now took, for Gondor… and for his men, to prove himself worthy of their loyalty… of their love.