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Jan. 9th, 2003 01:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603Okay, here's the next and last part of Faramir's Choice!! Whoo hoo! Finished a fic (yeah, all 2 chapters!)! No slash, profanity, etc. in this one. Just h/c.
Title: Faramir’s Choice 2/2
Author: Claudia
Rating: PG
Summary: Frodo has been hurt by his rough treatment by Faramir’s men.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
2
I moved the injured halfling’s pack under his feet so as to raise them above the level of his heart as I had been taught to do for shock. He was breathing rapidly and his face was far too pale, not an encouraging sign. I had witnessed far too many die from shock of injury or internal bleeding, though perhaps Frodo’s case was not as serious, as the blow had not hit his tender abdomen. His eyes fluttered open, and he recoiled at the sight of me so close, yet under the surface of weary fear, his eyes revealed trust.
“There is…” The halfling struggled to speak, wincing. “There is something familiar about you.”
“Shhh, do not speak now.” I turned to Sam. “I will leave you to gather some items – blankets, food, herbs that will help him. Also, we have here in Henneth Annun a barrel we immerse in an icy cold pool, and therein we store blocks of ice. I wish to put ice on his wound, to slow the internal bleeding.”
“Thank you,” Sam whispered, his eyes softening with gratitude. These halfings, despite what they had experienced, were too quick to trust. I felt a twinge of guilt. I was not finished questioning them, and they were still prisoners of Gondor. I had not decided their fate, nor would I until I could question them more thoroughly.
Damrod stood at attention as I approached him. “Captain?”
I kept my voice soft but stern. “There was no reason to exert such force on your prisoner. You have injured the halfling nearly to his death.”
“I did nothing to harm him, Captain, with all respect,” Damrod said. “I only strove to subdue him, as he was fighting me like a wild animal. And if he is a spy, why should it matter if he dies, as that is what his fate will be when he faces Lord Denethor?”
“That does not give us leave to act more like orcs and less like noble men of Gondor.”
Damrod flushed, but he kept his voice even. “You wish us to use mercy on those who are spies of an Enemy who has only the desire to destroy Gondor?”
“My heart tells me our prisoners are not spies.”
Damrod bowed, clearly unhappy by the reprimand. Even my father would not allow spies of Sauron to be mistreated in such a manner. Either an enemy was swiftly slain or he was taken to Minas Tirith for questioning – unharmed. Men of Gondor did not partake of torture.
I directed my men to bring food and water for the prisoners, gather some blankets, start water boiling, and bring a block of ice from the barrels in the pool. I gathered from our stash of healing herbs some that I knew helped to slow bleeding.
When I returned to the back of the cave, Sam was holding Frodo’s head on his lap. Frodo’s face was covered in sweat, and he was moaning weakly. He reeked of vomit.
“No, Sam,” I said, kneeling swiftly beside them. “You must put his head back down. His feet need to be above his heart.”
“Captain Faramir, he was just sick. He would have choked on it.”
My men brought the items I had requested, and I took the melting block of ice the size of a plate and slid it under Frodo’s back. The halfling shuddered, gasping, and his eyes filled with pained tears.
“This will be painful at first, Frodo, but you must relax. Soon your wound will numb.”
I piled the wool blankets over him, hoping to keep him warm despite the ice on his back.
“You are…from the White City,” Frodo said, and I was surprised when he grasped my hand with his small, cold hands. “I traveled with…one of my companions was a Man from Minas Tirith.”
“Shh, Mr. Frodo, don’t try and talk,” Sam said, and something urgent in the stocky halfling’s voice made me immediately suspicious.
Frodo shook violently, despite the heavy wool blankets. Despite the halfling’s agony, I had hope that he would recover. Deadly shock from internal bleeding often came swiftly after collapse, and instead of growing worse, his eyes appeared to be losing the dull glaze. I was beginning to suspect that the injury to his back had not been the chief cause of his collapse, but the culmination of a chain of hurts and weariness.
“Easy, Frodo. I have some herbal tea that will help you relax and will slow down your heart.”
I had been initially anxious about the dose to give him, as he was the size of a child and I had only experience in treating grown men injured in battle. In the end I had estimated that he was approximately a third of my weight and so gave him a third of what I would give a man my size.
“Samwise, hold his head up, just enough so that I can tilt this cup to his lips.”
“Yes, Captain,” Sam said, as humbly as a young soldier under my command. I was moved by the trust in his voice, and I was suddenly certain that these halflings were not spies. I yearned to discover why they were so close to the land of the Enemy. Surely they did not come willingly. This ill, fragile halfling was too weary, too frightened. He had mentioned a companion from Gondor. Was it possible…? My brother had gone to Rivendell because of a dream that had echoed through our heads.
*And the Halfling forth shall stand…*
Could it be that Isildur’s Bane their reason for coming to Mordor? Could these small creatures be carrying the most powerful weapon in Middle earth?
Frodo smiled a little, his blue eyes watery with gratitude as I gently urged him to drink more of the tea.
“It is very good,” he said. “Is there honey in here? It reminds me of…in the Shire…in my country we often put honey in our tea.” He sipped more of the tea and managed a small smile. “Thank you, Captain Faramir. Thank you for helping me.”
“I must ask you, Frodo…” My heart beat more rapidly. “Did you…might you have known my brother Boromir?”
Frodo blanched, and the nearly serene trust evaporated, and began to breathe quickly. “Boromir?” he said. “Boromir was your brother?”
“Now Captain, sir, you’re getting him excited, and he’s not fit for it, not one bit!” Sam clutched his master’s hand, looking fearfully at me.
“You were a friend of Boromir’s?” I asked. The halflings still did not answer, but they stared at me in trepidation.
“Yes,” Frodo said. “For my part. We set off from Rivendell with seven companions, including your brother.”
He closed his eyes, still breathing rapidly, and I knew that I could not press him now with further questions in his weakened state. Later I would learn from him the nature of their quest and how they were connected to Isildur’s Bane. And dearest to my heart, what had happened to my brother.
“Fear not, Frodo.” I said, squeezing his shoulder. “While in my custody, no harm shall come to you. I will leave you now to sleep. I have left you food and drink. Two men will guard your sleeping area, and if you have need of me, call to them.”
Early the next morning, I checked on my prisoners. I was pleasantly surprised to find Frodo propped against the wall of the cave, a wool blanket draped around his shoulders, nibbling on a piece of cheese. He still looked weary, but color had returned to his cheeks.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Much better, Captain Faramir,” he said. “Your tea did wonders for the pain. Thank you.”
“I am glad to hear of it. Later today I must question you more, but for now, continue to rest.”
“Thank you, Captain Faramir,” Sam said, bowing his head, and I was again moved by his humble trust. “I can’t say as I can thank you enough for what you’ve done for Mr. Frodo.”
I left the halflings and sat before my unfolded map, contemplating Gondor’s desperate hour. Something about the small prisoners filled me with a hope I had not had in weeks, in months. As long as I could remember, the shadows had hovered over Minas Tirith, and as of late, my father’s hope had been washed over the falls of Rauros. But now Isildur’s Bane had come within my grasp, a chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality.
There was a purity in Frodo and Sam that lifted the shadows in my heart, and I could not deny the gladness in my heart when I saw Frodo mostly recovered this morning. I had not yet learned the role these halflings played, but I could not help but suspect that by saving Frodo’s life, I had already showed my quality.
END
Title: Faramir’s Choice 2/2
Author: Claudia
Rating: PG
Summary: Frodo has been hurt by his rough treatment by Faramir’s men.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
2
I moved the injured halfling’s pack under his feet so as to raise them above the level of his heart as I had been taught to do for shock. He was breathing rapidly and his face was far too pale, not an encouraging sign. I had witnessed far too many die from shock of injury or internal bleeding, though perhaps Frodo’s case was not as serious, as the blow had not hit his tender abdomen. His eyes fluttered open, and he recoiled at the sight of me so close, yet under the surface of weary fear, his eyes revealed trust.
“There is…” The halfling struggled to speak, wincing. “There is something familiar about you.”
“Shhh, do not speak now.” I turned to Sam. “I will leave you to gather some items – blankets, food, herbs that will help him. Also, we have here in Henneth Annun a barrel we immerse in an icy cold pool, and therein we store blocks of ice. I wish to put ice on his wound, to slow the internal bleeding.”
“Thank you,” Sam whispered, his eyes softening with gratitude. These halfings, despite what they had experienced, were too quick to trust. I felt a twinge of guilt. I was not finished questioning them, and they were still prisoners of Gondor. I had not decided their fate, nor would I until I could question them more thoroughly.
Damrod stood at attention as I approached him. “Captain?”
I kept my voice soft but stern. “There was no reason to exert such force on your prisoner. You have injured the halfling nearly to his death.”
“I did nothing to harm him, Captain, with all respect,” Damrod said. “I only strove to subdue him, as he was fighting me like a wild animal. And if he is a spy, why should it matter if he dies, as that is what his fate will be when he faces Lord Denethor?”
“That does not give us leave to act more like orcs and less like noble men of Gondor.”
Damrod flushed, but he kept his voice even. “You wish us to use mercy on those who are spies of an Enemy who has only the desire to destroy Gondor?”
“My heart tells me our prisoners are not spies.”
Damrod bowed, clearly unhappy by the reprimand. Even my father would not allow spies of Sauron to be mistreated in such a manner. Either an enemy was swiftly slain or he was taken to Minas Tirith for questioning – unharmed. Men of Gondor did not partake of torture.
I directed my men to bring food and water for the prisoners, gather some blankets, start water boiling, and bring a block of ice from the barrels in the pool. I gathered from our stash of healing herbs some that I knew helped to slow bleeding.
When I returned to the back of the cave, Sam was holding Frodo’s head on his lap. Frodo’s face was covered in sweat, and he was moaning weakly. He reeked of vomit.
“No, Sam,” I said, kneeling swiftly beside them. “You must put his head back down. His feet need to be above his heart.”
“Captain Faramir, he was just sick. He would have choked on it.”
My men brought the items I had requested, and I took the melting block of ice the size of a plate and slid it under Frodo’s back. The halfling shuddered, gasping, and his eyes filled with pained tears.
“This will be painful at first, Frodo, but you must relax. Soon your wound will numb.”
I piled the wool blankets over him, hoping to keep him warm despite the ice on his back.
“You are…from the White City,” Frodo said, and I was surprised when he grasped my hand with his small, cold hands. “I traveled with…one of my companions was a Man from Minas Tirith.”
“Shh, Mr. Frodo, don’t try and talk,” Sam said, and something urgent in the stocky halfling’s voice made me immediately suspicious.
Frodo shook violently, despite the heavy wool blankets. Despite the halfling’s agony, I had hope that he would recover. Deadly shock from internal bleeding often came swiftly after collapse, and instead of growing worse, his eyes appeared to be losing the dull glaze. I was beginning to suspect that the injury to his back had not been the chief cause of his collapse, but the culmination of a chain of hurts and weariness.
“Easy, Frodo. I have some herbal tea that will help you relax and will slow down your heart.”
I had been initially anxious about the dose to give him, as he was the size of a child and I had only experience in treating grown men injured in battle. In the end I had estimated that he was approximately a third of my weight and so gave him a third of what I would give a man my size.
“Samwise, hold his head up, just enough so that I can tilt this cup to his lips.”
“Yes, Captain,” Sam said, as humbly as a young soldier under my command. I was moved by the trust in his voice, and I was suddenly certain that these halflings were not spies. I yearned to discover why they were so close to the land of the Enemy. Surely they did not come willingly. This ill, fragile halfling was too weary, too frightened. He had mentioned a companion from Gondor. Was it possible…? My brother had gone to Rivendell because of a dream that had echoed through our heads.
*And the Halfling forth shall stand…*
Could it be that Isildur’s Bane their reason for coming to Mordor? Could these small creatures be carrying the most powerful weapon in Middle earth?
Frodo smiled a little, his blue eyes watery with gratitude as I gently urged him to drink more of the tea.
“It is very good,” he said. “Is there honey in here? It reminds me of…in the Shire…in my country we often put honey in our tea.” He sipped more of the tea and managed a small smile. “Thank you, Captain Faramir. Thank you for helping me.”
“I must ask you, Frodo…” My heart beat more rapidly. “Did you…might you have known my brother Boromir?”
Frodo blanched, and the nearly serene trust evaporated, and began to breathe quickly. “Boromir?” he said. “Boromir was your brother?”
“Now Captain, sir, you’re getting him excited, and he’s not fit for it, not one bit!” Sam clutched his master’s hand, looking fearfully at me.
“You were a friend of Boromir’s?” I asked. The halflings still did not answer, but they stared at me in trepidation.
“Yes,” Frodo said. “For my part. We set off from Rivendell with seven companions, including your brother.”
He closed his eyes, still breathing rapidly, and I knew that I could not press him now with further questions in his weakened state. Later I would learn from him the nature of their quest and how they were connected to Isildur’s Bane. And dearest to my heart, what had happened to my brother.
“Fear not, Frodo.” I said, squeezing his shoulder. “While in my custody, no harm shall come to you. I will leave you now to sleep. I have left you food and drink. Two men will guard your sleeping area, and if you have need of me, call to them.”
Early the next morning, I checked on my prisoners. I was pleasantly surprised to find Frodo propped against the wall of the cave, a wool blanket draped around his shoulders, nibbling on a piece of cheese. He still looked weary, but color had returned to his cheeks.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Much better, Captain Faramir,” he said. “Your tea did wonders for the pain. Thank you.”
“I am glad to hear of it. Later today I must question you more, but for now, continue to rest.”
“Thank you, Captain Faramir,” Sam said, bowing his head, and I was again moved by his humble trust. “I can’t say as I can thank you enough for what you’ve done for Mr. Frodo.”
I left the halflings and sat before my unfolded map, contemplating Gondor’s desperate hour. Something about the small prisoners filled me with a hope I had not had in weeks, in months. As long as I could remember, the shadows had hovered over Minas Tirith, and as of late, my father’s hope had been washed over the falls of Rauros. But now Isildur’s Bane had come within my grasp, a chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality.
There was a purity in Frodo and Sam that lifted the shadows in my heart, and I could not deny the gladness in my heart when I saw Frodo mostly recovered this morning. I had not yet learned the role these halflings played, but I could not help but suspect that by saving Frodo’s life, I had already showed my quality.
END
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Awwww!!!!
And oh, I read your previous post too--poor dear... it must be so hard to live apart for so long. And to face that situation while suffering from PMS... awww... It must be close to unbearable...
Suffering a bit from it myself, but I'm just a bit moody and tender... that's awful enough. :-/
Hugs;
Tangelian
Re: Awwww!!!!
Date: 2003-01-10 12:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-09 03:40 pm (UTC)That's easily my favorite line...you always do such an excellent job, and this is not an exception. It's just unfortunate this is a stand alone.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-10 12:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-09 03:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-01-10 12:02 pm (UTC)Any chance you're updating on Storms soon?