"A Healer's Oath"
Part 2
by Beryll
The black clouds shrouding the sky to the east were blocking the light of the rising morning sun but that wasn't the reason for the bleakness Faramir felt in his heart.
He was standing on the battlements above the destroyed main gate of the city, watching line after line of the forces of Gondor depart to fight a desperate battle for time at the black gates of Mordor. And he was staying behind.
It rankled to be forced to remain. Of course he knew that it was only sensible. That in his wounded state he would not be much help in a battle that was more like an open invitation to doom anyway. That his sharp mind would be of much more use back here in Minas Tirith, rebuilding the defenses.
After all he had agreed with the king readily enough when he had been asked to oversee the many necessary tasks. There had been pride in his heart that the king should entrust him with duties that his father would have thought far above his younger son's abilities.
But watching them march out now he wished for nothing but to be at his king's side.
His king.
The thought rolled around his head. He had a king now. A man who had come to Minas Tirith like a silver light out of darkness, a man who had brought rescue in Gondor's most desperate battle. A man who inspired with his calmness and sharp mind. The man they had all so needed that there hadn't been a moment of hesitation when his identity had been revealed. He had been accepted instantly.
Still, the king had refused to enter Minas Tirith or claim what was rightfully his till the only remaining member of the Steward family had been able to pay his respects and officially welcome him.
Faramir still felt in awe of such wisdom and restraint.
He did not feel he deserved such considerate treatment when he surveyed what the king had done for Gondor in the short time he was present and what he himself had accomplished.
Sneaking out of the orc camp had been easier than he would have expected. There was not much order in their forces, no matter how hard their overseers tried to keep them under control. Orcs were made to be a mad plundering horde, they would never make a good army. Especially as they were all rapidly moving out to fight. Faramir had just let them sweep him with them, trying to stay away from the Haradrim forces.
Getting back to his own people had proven more difficult. The battle on the Pellenor fields had been raging for more than a day, when he first surveyed it. From the wrong side of the battlefield. Even had he been unharmed he would have chosen the stealthy way around the battlefield rather than trying to enter the fray. Chances would have been good that he would have been killed by his own people.
He had reached the walls of Minas Tirith when the forces of Rohan had arrived on the scene. In the ensuing confusion he had shed most of his disguise and slipped back into the city through the destroyed gates, picked up a sword and fought his way back up to the citadel.
It hadn't taken him long to find out that Mithrandir was in charge of the defense of the city. They had told him that the wizard had arrived a few days before and that without him the city would have fallen by now. There had been rumors that the Steward had committed suicide when he heard that his second son was missing in battle but nobody had been able to confirm them.
Finding Mithrandir had proven difficult as the strength of despair that had kept Faramir going for so long had finally begun to desert his exhausted body.
He had found the wizard on the battlements, shouting orders to the soldiers of Gondor as if he had done so all his life with the proud Gondorian warriors obeying him and following his word like Faramir had only seen them fight when they were led by his brother.
Seeing that his home was well defended Faramir had finally succumbed to his exhaustion and more or less collapsed into Mithrandir's arms.
When he had woken up in the Houses of Healing the battle had been over. Once again Gondor had prevailed against impossible odds and defended Middle Earth from the darkness of Mordor. At least momentarily.
Still all that Faramir found in his heart had been a strange numb gratitude. Because the rumors about his father had proven to be true. And Faramir could not help asking himself, why his father had never been able to give him one word of praise when he had been alive and still felt such deep sorrow at his last son going missing, that he actually ended his own life. His lack of strength and courage shamed Faramir but at the same time he felt warmed by the knowledge that maybe his father had loved him after all.
And those conflicting emotions were in his heart still. Slowly he turned away from the display, closing his eyes. He had survived. Just as Gondor, against all odds, he was still breathing. And he would have to learn to deal with all the changes.
He was grateful, when an aide coughed softly next to him, trying to catch his attention. Work had always been what took his mind off all that was wrong with his life.
"Yes?" he asked the man, noting that he was wearing his arm in a sling. Truly only the wounded had been left behind.
"Sir, I... uhm..." the man nervously shuffled his feet, closely studying the floor.
"What is it?" Faramir asked again, his voice filled with the patience and care that had won him the trust of so many men.
"Sir, I just was at the Houses of Healing to have my broken arm checked and... well... it was rather strange... there was a Haradrim who was helping out the healers there... and he checked my arm... and as if that wasn't strange enough... he even spoke Westeron... and he said... he told me should I by chance meet you to tell you he was there. Sorry to disturb you with such nonsense, sir..."
The man had been staring at his own feet while he spoke. When he glanced up now to gauge the reaction of his commander his eyes went wide as Faramir was grinning widely.
"He is? Dear Valar, man, that is the best news I have gotten today." he said, the bleakness he had felt lifted from his soul like a grey shroud. He had not even thought about the Haradrim healer he owed his life to since he had woken up. But now the memory came flooding back. And that memory included the feeling of their lips touching. And in a world full of mad change, Faramir felt a reckless hope grab his heart as well.
He was amazed at the force of his emotions. What had been a stirring of passion when he had kissed the unconscious healer had somehow turned into much more while it lay unnoticed in his heart when his mind had been on his duties.
And suddenly all his duties could wait another hour as he made his way up the circles of the city to the Houses of Healing. And now that his mind was hopeful the city seemed to have changed as well. Where before he had seen ruin and death he now noticed the people starting to clean out and rebuild, the hope in his own heart reflected in their faces.
That was probably why it took him several hours to actually get to the top of the city. As he stopped in countless places to talk to people he knew, to help out where he could. Realizing that these were his people all over again, now even more than ever before as Boromir, as well his father were gone.
The sun was high in the sky, finally gifting the city with some light, when Faramir entered the Houses of Healing. Even here things seemed brighter than they had on his last visit. Still there were dreadfully many patients and there were quite a few that would probably not make it, but the stench of death and blood had lessened, as everybody had been cared for and now there was only the work of keeping them getting better.
Still everybody was quite busy and it took a while for anybody to notice him. The master healer finally approached Faramir, wiping his hands on a towel while talking to one of his aids at the same time.
"Lord Faramir, what can I do for you? Does your wound pain you?" he asked then.
Faramir shook his head, smiling. "No, I'm as fine as can be expected. I am looking for somebody. I have been told that there is a Haradrim helping out in your house. Can you tell me where I can find him?"
A frown appeared on the master healer's brow almost instantly. "He is doing a good job and he has not hurt anybody, my lord." The master healer stated with quite some hostility in his voice. "There is really absolutely no need to have him removed."
Faramir smiled. "You misunderstand, master, I have no intention of stealing his help from you. I just wish to meet him."
Now the master healer's expression changed to puzzlement but he nodded slowly. "He is in the herbal garden, I think."
Faramir only took the time to nod his thanks, before quickly making his way through the main building, passing into the gardens surrounding the Houses of Healing. Again he had to stop here and there to greet soldiers he knew but finally he stepped into the walled premise of the herbal garden.
His quarry was not hard to spot. A sole person was kneeling between orderly rows of plants, carefully digging out some roots with a small knife. And even though the man was wearing dark pants and a shirt that looked a bit too large instead of traditional Haradrim garb, Faramir immediately recognized the mop of black hair and the darker skin, even though he could not see the face. There was no doubt in his heart.
"Shazar?" he said softly.
Immediately the man's head turned to face him and Faramir winced when he noticed the many bruises. Obviously the battle had not passed the healer by without leaving marks.
But the smile spreading on the same face only moments later was as bright as Faramir remembered it and there was mirth sparkling in his dark eyes again.
"Prince Faramir," he said, one of his eyebrows rising in mocking surprise, "one would think you had better things to do than personally checking on a prisoner of war."
Faramir returned the smile and walked over to the other man. "It would seem to me that you have already found a way to rescue yourself from imprisonment so I fear I can not repay your kindness by providing a means of escape." he said.
"I have to admit that the people of Gondor are quite welcoming. Or they were when they found out that my skills could be of use to them." Shazar got up slowly and a bit stiffly, brushing dirt from his pants. "But the same can be said about orcs," he added with a crooked grin.
The need to touch the Haradrim to convince himself that he was really there was overwhelming but Faramir kept himself in check.
"Did they hurt you badly, when they found me gone?" he asked instead.
The healer winced in memory. "Well... let's say they were not exactly pleased. But as I said, they let me live."
Then he looked at Faramir with the typical healer's expression. "How is your wound? I suppose you did not exactly go easy on yourself."
Faramir smiled guiltily. "No, I did not. But I'm fine. You did good work, obviously."
Shazar sighed dramatically. "Every healer's gripe with a soldier... they never take care of themselves. By all rights you should be flat on your back and not move for at least a week."
A shudder ran through Faramir as the Haradrim's words took on a meaning he had certainly not intended in Faramir's mind. And to his shame he felt heat creep up his face at the indecent thoughts that were suddenly crowding his mind.
And that he suddenly felt the other man's hand grab his shoulder in worry did not exactly help either.
"Prince? Are you okay?" the healer asked worriedly.
Faramir nodded mutely, not trusting his own voice, drawing a deep breath to calm himself.
"Yes," he then answered, "still weaker than I thought, I guess." He dared to look up and meet the gentle eyes of the healer, wondering if there was any hope for the mad desire that had made him hurry here. But all he found was kindness.
"Why did you want to see me?" he asked, trying to change the subject to safer grounds.
Shazar smiled. "I may not be locked up with your other captured Haradrim - thank goodness, they'd probably eat me alive - but right now I'm only allowed to help out a bit. There's so much more I could do here. Your healers know much lore that I am unfamiliar with and they could learn just as much from me. I... well... you said you owe me, so I was wondering if you'd put in a word for me with the master healer." His smile grew brighter and pleading in such a cute way that Faramir thought his heart must melt at such a sight.
"Of course I will." he said immediately. "And I think the master healer will be pleased. He seems to be quite protective of you."
The Haradrim nodded. "Yes. Thank you, prince. This means much to me. And I do have to say that your people have a lot more appreciation for a healer than mine."
Then his eye grew gentle again and Faramir thought that he could almost detect a bit more than professional care in them.
"You know, I feared for you. I was not sure at all you would make it back to your own people safely. And I have to admit I was rather surprised Gondor prevailed. Seems you always got another ace up your sleeve. I'm glad to see you well. Very glad."
Faramir swallowed hard. This was so much what he wanted to hear that his mouth felt dry. In this moment he desperately wished he were a tiny bit more like Boromir had been. Acting before thinking would have been extremely useful now. He drew another deep breath, trying to find courage to admit to the other man what was in his heart in some way. He was so sure he would be rejected but still his heart refused to shut up.
"I'm glad you survived too." he replied carefully. "Though I have to say that you would probably be safer returning to your own people. We may have won the battle but we may still lose the war."
The Haradrim just shrugged. "The people of Gondor seem to have a lot of faith in their new king. There is a saying among my people. 'Faith gives you wings.' With that much faith he will be able to fly pretty high." Mirth sparkled in Shazar's eyes when he added: "And should he fall after all... I'm sure it will be a spectacular sight. Wouldn't want to miss that..."
That made Faramir laugh. "You are insolent, Haradrim. Any soldier of Gondor would be in for a beating for such a comment."
Shazar laughed with him. "Been there, done that," he said, grinning.
For a long moment they just stood there quietly till the silence began to feel awkward.
"Well... I guess I should be getting back to my duties..." Faramir said finally, feeling decidedly unhappy and like a coward but unable to come up with a way to express what he felt.
The healer nodded. "Yes, prince, so should I. But do not forget to come back to have your wound checked. It wouldn't do if it started to fester. After all I want to leave a good impression with my work."
"I will." Faramir said. "And I will talk to the master healer on my way out."
"Thank you." Shazar crossed his arms in front of his chest, bowing in Haradrim fashion. Then started to turn back to the roots he had been digging at.
And Faramir just acted. Putting a hand on the other man's shoulder he turned him around again, leaning forward and kissing him soundly on the lips, closing his eyes quickly not to see the disgust that might possibly form on the healer's face.
Faramir did not dare to pull the other closer to him but he kissed him with all the passion he felt and to his immense surprise the Haradrim did not pull back. He did not exactly return the kiss either but at least he allowed Faramir his moment of hope.
It took quite a bit of strength of will to finally separate from the kiss. And even more to open his eyes to face what he had done.
Faramir's heart made a painful leap, when he realized that the expression on Shazar's face was not disgust but simple surprise. And a shiver ran down Faramir's spine when the healer slowly licked his lips as if he was trying to get a taste of what had just happened to him.
"That was... unexpected," he finally said, still no obvious rejection in his expression, nurturing Faramir's hope.
And then a slow smile spread on the Haradrim's face and Shazar's next words made Faramir's heart melt in happiness: "Maybe there is more to learn in Minas Tirith than healer's lore." he said. Then he slightly cocked his head, a sweet, almost shy look in his dark eyes. "Though I have to admit that in this regard I fear there is no knowledge I may share, prince."
And Faramir marveled at the trust in this admission, fierce protectiveness joining the deep longing he felt for the other man.
"You... you would be... you'd give it a chance?" he asked, feeling like a foolish teenager but immensely happy nonetheless.
The healer shrugged, mirth again returning to his eyes. "Yes." he said. "Though I have to say I don't really see why a Gondorian prince would find value in a Haradrim who is not even a warrior."
A hundred replies came to Faramir's mind which would all have explained how much more value there was in a healer with so much gentleness and honor in his heart. But in the end Faramir decided that all those could wait for another time.
So instead of saying anything he just drew Shazar into his arms, hugging him close. There was a moment's resistance but then the healer relaxed into the embrace and Faramir was allowed to revel in the feeling of the other's warm body pressing against his.
And for the first time in his life he ceased worrying about the future and just enjoyed the happiness of the moment.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll