Chapter 47

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Faramir stepped back out into the open after pushing Frodo and Sam to safety. His hands worked without his mind telling them to, slinging the longbow off his back and drawing an arrow from the quiver that hung from his shoulder. No, he couldn't wander far from the two Halflings - he needed them to give to his father, or all would be lost. So he stood there, stood still as a Nazgul on one of their terrifying beasts flew down on wings as silent as death.

It alighted on a crumbling pillar that had long ago supported the building, seeming to leer down into the courtyard where soldiers hurried around trying to get into defensible places.

Frodo stepped forward from the corner where he hid.

The Ring lay on his palm, shining golden in the grey light of evening, as he outstretched his hand towards the Nazgul. The head beneath the black hood slowly turned to look at Frodo, the beast under it shifting slightly. Very slowly, as if through a veil of pain, Frodo moved as if to put on the Ring.

Faramir, his back pressed against the wall, turned to look at Frodo. There seemed to be a dazed expression on his face and he looked to be controlled by some invisible puppeteer.

And then Sam was there, tackling Frodo to the ground as the winged beast flew at them with talons unstretched. Faramir reacted before thinking and shot the beast through the wing, bringing it down on the stone structures, and then through the neck.

Sam's momentum carried the two down the stairs, where they eventually rolled to a stop. Frodo in a mask of fury had pinned Sam down by the shoulders, holding his short sword at his throat.

Sam looked up at him with teary eyes. "It's me," he whispered. "It's your Sam." Frodo blinked, still looking down at Sam with an emotion Sam could not decipher. Despair? Shock? "Don't you know your Sam?"

Frodo backed away from Sam, sinking to the floor as his back hit the wall behind him. He looked off into the air, his sword clattering against the flagstones. I tried to kill him. I tried to kill my Sam. "I can't do this, Sam," he said wearily.

Sam got to his knees and then his feet, dusting off the knees of his well-worn trousers. A soft pitter-patter behind them told him that Gollum had joined them, standing in the old archway. "I know," he said, leaning against the arch. "It's all wrong. By all rights, we shouldn't even be here." Sam missed his home so dearly. It would have been time to plant his zinnias now, but there was no one back home to do it now. He thought of strawberries under the sweet summer sun, of Rosie, the ribbons flying in her hair as she danced. "But here we are."

Through one of the openings of the chamber-like area they were in - it could've been an old window, or the remnants of a door - they could see a Nazgul and its beast take flight and climb up, up above the old city. "It's like in the great stories, Mister Frodo. The ones that really mattered," Sam continued. He could not bear to see Mister Frodo hopeless like this. "Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?"

Sam sighed, pushing off the wall. He was tired, tired to the bone. "But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines it will shine out clearer."

Frodo was sitting up now, and Sam gave him a smile that was half a grimace. "Those were the stories that stayed with you, that meant something. Even if you were to small to understand why. But I think, Mister Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. Because they were holding on to something."

He approached Frodo, who still sat on the floor leaning against the wall. "What are we holding on to, Sam?" he asked, tears in his sky-blue eyes.

"There's some good in this world, Mister Frodo," Sam said, helping Frodo up. "And it's worth fighting for."

Faramir broke free from the commotion of fighting and ran up the stairs where he had last seen the halflings. When he burst through the doorway, he found Sam and Frodo standing close to each other, Sam's arm around Frodo's shoulder. Did I interrupt anything?

No time to consider. He went straight to Frodo and knelt before him. "I think at last we understand each other, Frodo Baggins," he said quietly. Then he paused, considering his next words. I can't do this. I can't let him down again.

Madril was no help behind him. "You know the laws of our country," he urged. "The laws of your father. If you let them go, your life will be forfeit."

I can do this. For the greater good. "Then it is forfeit," said Faramir, releasing a held breath. "Release them."

He rose. His Rangers were hesitant to follow his orders, and he understood. Would Faramir's disobedience mean punishment for them also? They had suffered enough in this war. If it comes to punishment, I shall receive all of it and they shall get none.

Their small entourage followed Faramir's quick strides to the flooded portion of the city, where the water came to Faramir's knees but almost to the halflings' waists. The Sméagol creature prowled behind, making hardly a noise even as they waded through the water.

Faramir finally stopped under the entrance of a dark tunnel. "This is the old sewer. Runs right under the river through to the edge of the city," he explained. "You'll find cover in the woods there."

"Captain Faramir," Sam said, coming forward. "You've shown your quality, sir. The very highest."

Faramir smiled. "The Shire must a truly great realm, Master Gamgee, where gardeners are held in high honor," he replied. Then he turned to Frodo. "What road will you take once you reach the woods?"

"Gollum says there's a path near Minas Morgul that climbs up into the Mountains," Frodo said, but he did not seem certain in his trust of the creature.

Faramir's eyes narrowed. "Cirith Ungol?" Cleft of the Spider, he translated in his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gollum crawling past them, and in one smooth movement he had the creature pinned against the wall by the neck. "Is that its name?"

"No, no," wailed Gollum. Then he relented, screaming "Yes!"

Faramir dropped the creature, turning again to Frodo. "Frodo, they say a dark terror dwells in the passes above Minas Morgul. You cannot go that way."

"It is the only way," Gollum croaked, massaging his throat from where he lay on the ground. "Master says we must go to the ground, so we must try."

Frodo looked at the ground, pensive. "I must."

Faramir heaved a sigh. "Go, Frodo. Go with the goodwill of all Men."

"Thank you," Frodo said, bobbing into a short bow as he and Sam sloshed their way through the edges of the sewer.

Faramir turned to go, then whirled around and seized Gollum by the throat again. "May death find you quickly if you bring them to harm," he hissed. Faramir flung, actually flung Gollum down the sewer where he crawl-walked in his strange way to join Frodo and Sam. As Faramir left, he heard the last strains of their conversation:

"Mister Frodo didn't mean for them Rangers to hurt you. You know that, don't you? He was tryin' to save you, see?"

Faramir chuckled to himself. Frodo was a kind soul, but Faramir himself had fully meant to hurt Gollum. That sorry excuse of a backstabbing creature deserved it.

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more faramir for y'all because we all know that we love him.


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