"My Own Private Gondor"
Part 1
by Vagabond
Author’s Notes:
This is an AU, that means the characters live in an `alternate universe' and
will maybe act different! The story is told from Boromir's POV and he is about
25 and Aragorn about 27 in this AU. The idea for this Fic came from the wonderful
slashy movie "My own private Idaho", but of course this story will
be different in some ways. Warnings for this part: mentioned child abuse,
non-con
*****
~ Welcome to a new morning in the great White City, stranger who comes through
this land! Watch Minas Tirith sparkle with pride and honor, my friend, she
wants to show to everyone that she is the beating heart of Gondor. Do not
trust the `old lady', pal. The city isn't so pure and virgin as the white
walls want to make you believe. She will fuck you whenever you are too weak
to resist, whenever you give up to her. There lies a whore hidden, behind
all that proud fluttering banners and the regal façade. ~
*
I opened my eyes and wished I hadn't. Staring at an indefinable point on the
ceiling, I remained motionless for maybe a minute. I didn't want to get up,
I just wanted to lay here and pretend that I was dead.
There is a mouldy spot on the ceiling that wasn't there yesterday… I
hate this fucking ceiling; gives me the feeling that I'm going to rot here.
Now a fat black spider crawled over the ugly spot and into a corner where
it had its web. Helpless, there struggled a tiny bug, desperately it tried
to escape but got weaker more and more. Slowly, the spider approached, many
hairy legs tentatively touched the wriggling prey, before the cruel weaver
began to spin new threads to bind its victim tighter. Pure panic seemed to
fill the little bug when it felt the additional threads and its sticky glistening
body twitched convulsively. The moves soon came to an end, when the spider
had the deplorable creature entirely woven into a dirty-grey cocoon. Gondor
had one little bug less…
A deep sigh drew my attention away from the fascinating scene that happened
in the room's dark corner. Alarmed, I looked at the bed beside mine, where
a tuft of dishevelled blond hair was all that was revealed under the threadbare
sheets. Trying to make no noise when I walked over to my brother's bed, I
sat down on the edge. It was cold in our room, and only clad in underwear,
I shivered a little.
Faramir seemed still asleep. Carefully, I drew the blanket down to reveal
his face and he grumbled, tugging at the sheet. Grinning, I let go of the
thin cover and he pulled it up to his ears again. I gave a low laugh and affectionately,
I ruffled his blond locks. Sleepily, he opened his eyes now and yawned heartily.
When he saw me sitting on his bed, he presented me with a broad smile.
"Morning, little bro'…", I grinned, "slept well?"
He nodded. "I dreamed of you."
"And? Was I a brave warrior again?" I asked him and laughed.
He snickered, too. "Indeed you were, no one could match you. And our
father was Steward of Gondor!"
I had to laugh louder. "Over whole Gondor? Oh, that's great." I
winked at him.
Playfully he gave me a punch. "Don't mock me."
I ruffled his hair again. "I do not. Really, I love your stories, your
dreams – wish I had some dreams like yours, would make my sleep more
pleasant." I sighed and he gave me a hug."What will you do today?"
I asked him and he shifted uneasily.
"I thought I could hang around with Legolas a little." he mumbled,
and I wrinkled my forehead in disapproval.
"Faramir, please, Legolas isn't good for you. The boy is crazy, believe
me, and he smokes too much of those intoxicating herbs. Stay away from him,
I beg you."
Of course he didn't want to hear that. He was in love with the Elf, I knew.
And I had to tell myself, that although Faramir is five years younger than
I, he was no mere child with his 20 years. I couldn't lead him by the string,
couldn't tell him what to do and what to leave anymore, but I tried. I had
to protect him, it was the only thing that mattered for me.
*
Sometimes in my dreams I can still hear her laughing, can I smell the sweet
soothing scent of her hair and skin when she caressed me. In my memory, she
is like the shinning sun, there was no darkness with her. No monsters, no
demons, just love.Mother…
~Flashback: 15 years ago~
I'm not even sure about her name anymore. She was just `mommy' for me. But
I think I remember right that other people called her `Finduilas'. But they
had many names for her, the men who came to the tavern and called for ale
and wine, and the men who came to her at night.
We had a little room at the tavern. Mother worked for the always drunken looking
inn-keeper all the day to get us through, for there was no man at her side
who supported us. I cannot think of any moment where she did not look tired
and exhausted.
Sometimes a man came to our home, a soldier I think, the huge sword at his
side and the crest embroidered tunic gave a hint of it. He seemed to be a
noble one, all clad in fine garments. Once, mother said to me that he was
my father.
I didn't like him very much. He was too stern and grim looking, too cold.
I don't think that he liked me. Somehow that made me sad, for should a father
not love his son? But mommy said that no one must know that he was my father,
that it had to be a secret.
Of course, I didn't understand why. I knew nothing about social status and
that my father probably was married with a woman of his own rank. I was 5
years old and couldn't realize that he just used my mother for his pleasure,
that it wasn't love, and that he saw me and Faramir as an accident. After
Faramir was born, he didn't come to our home anymore. It broke my mother,
she had really loved this man.
I think she gave up after this. She became more and more weak, pale and skinny.
But she knew that we would be lost without her and so she held on to life,
five years more, by then all her strength had left her.
Will I ever forget the feeling of her ice-cold skin against my little hand?
Her gaze frozen in death?
The sorrow and pain that was still written on her face?
I cried and begged her to get up, tugged at her arms, shook her body, and
when all this was futile, I crawled into the bed beside her. I made myself
as small as I could, buried into her stiff form, and searched desperately
for the warmth that had been always there, that had soothed me so many times.
But now a frightening coldness bit at me, increased my panic.
Then I heard my brother wake up. He sniffed slightly, babbling something with
his squeaky voice and began to cry when no one came to him. I felt so incredibly
tired, but my brother's demanding call caused me to look after him.
He stood in our bed and looked towards mother with big eyes. "Mommy?"
he asked and I just took him into my arms and held him tight. "Mommy
`s gone." I said.
"When will she come back?" he asked, already sobbing.
"She will never come back, Fara." I laid down onto the bed and pressed
his little body to mine. "Mommy has left us alone."
My brother's tiny fingers clutched my shirt, his little hands clenched to
fists, while he whimpered and cried. I stroked gently over the soft hair of
his head. He was so small, so vulnerable, I had to protect him…
"Don't be afraid, Faramir.", I whispered to him, "We still
have each other, you know. *I* will care for you now."
And I did.
---
Sometimes I wonder if you remember anything of that night, Faramir? The night
Elrond found us? I'm sure we would have died without his help. His help…yes…
perhaps we would have better died this day…
After mother's death, the inn-keeper had kept us to work in his tavern. To
help in the kitchen, to clean the rooms, to do all the things the others didn't
want to do. The work was too hard for you. You couldn't stand it and became
sick.
And then the beating… They beat us every time something went wrong.
When we were not fast enough, when we broke something, or when the others
were just in the mood to beat someone who couldn't defend himself. I couldn't
let you stay there, little one, you deserved better. And so I decided to run
away with you.
But there was no place for us in Gondor's streets. The traders and guards
expelled us from the shining places, and in the end, we had no other choice
than to go into the dark stinking alleys, searching for a place to sleep.
It was horrible. The people there looked mad and frightening and the forthcoming
night brought cold rain that soaked our clothes instantly.
You were so pale and already feverish. I knew I would loose you, too. But
you wouldn't have to go alone. `We are going to mommy.' I said it to soothe
you, to take you the fear, and somehow I wished it would be so. I missed her
so much.
I held you in my arms, sitting trembling at a dirty street-corner, and there
was no way that my cold damp body could warm you.
Some rough, ragged men were watching us, nastily grinning and whispering to
each other. We wept in fear when they approached us slowly.
And then… then Elrond came…
He was like a sparkling light; so beautiful, so powerful. I hadn't seen an
Elf until then, and I thought I would dream - or die. If the Valars had send
him to us?
Elrond angrily shouted at the men, almost snarled, and they hurried back into
the darkness of the street. I didn't think twice when the Elf stretched his
fine slender hand invitingly towards me,smiling, to take us with him to his
home.
Do you remember how he gave us something to eat, let us bathe and get us new
clothes? He spoke some strange sounding words to you, gently caressing your
face, and your fever-clouded eyes became clear and your breath more steady.
I looked at him in wonder and was convinced now that he had to be a good spirit,
send from the Valars to help us. Oh Faramir, already this night he let me
pay for our both `rescue'! He showed me all of his `elvan beauty' and I could
never look with this wondrous amazement at Elves again.
You slept when I crawled into the bed that he had given to us. I tried to
weep silently, but there was no way to suppress the sobs that shook my body.
You were awakened by this, and I cannot forget the expression on your face
when you saw me crying. You tried to figure out what had happened, but you
were merely 5 years old and couldn't understand.
And I couldn't even understand it myself! I didn't know what had happened
to me, what he had done to me. I had no words for it, but I knew I didn't
want it to happen ever again. This night you held me; your little arms around
me, trying to soothe although you were so scared and afraid by yourself.
The next night I lay in Elrond's bed again; helpless against his importunity,
his friendly smile and the honey-sweet voice, against his promises to care
for us if I would be `just a little nice' to him. I knew that we would die
alone on the streets, knew we needed him, his protection. So I was `nice'
to him, this night and the others that followed, and just a few weeks later,
to his special friends, who would return at every night from thenceforth.
I was ten years old and realized that there were no good spirits who helped
little children; I learned that fairy tales didn't exist and that it was my
own private hell I would live in until my dying day.
`My own private Gondor.'
~End Flashback~
*
Faramir was still speaking to me, mumbling something about Legolas and his
own business and I had to concentrate to turn my thoughts back to here and
now. It's better to not remember the past.
After a while our little fight was over and I could convince my brother that
I would not interfere in his relationship with Legolas. Of course I will do,
and we both knew it. But at the moment, Faramir was contented with my promise.
I gave him a hug and began to dress, it was time to go to `work'.
Faramir watched me with sorrow in his pale green eyes. He doesn't like what
I'm doing and wishes that I haven't to do it. But we have no choice. If we
want to have something to eat and to live somehow, then one of us has to work
for it. And Valar – he will not be the one to do `this job', not as
long as I have a bit of life in me!
I was already at the door when he called me back. His hand reached for my
face and
tenderly his long fingers touched my cheek, his eyes looked pleadingly into
mine. "Please, Boromir, be careful, yes?! I can't bear it when you get
hurt."
I laid my hand over his and squeezed gently. "Don't be afraid. What happened
last week… Things like this happen, Faramir, don't think about it any
longer, I for myself have already forgotten it. But I will be more careful,
I promise."
He gave a bitter nod. "Yes, you always say so. - And then you come home
again, or better `crawl home', bleeding and beaten black and blue!"
He was almost crying now, gripping my shoulders hard and lightly shaking me.
"By the Valar, Boromir, you were half dead the last time and I'm not
sure if I can stand that any longer. Always hoping that this night no drunken
bastard rapes you and beats you into a bloody pulp just for fun! Please…
please, Boromir, I couldn't stand to lose you! Please…"
The tears pearled down his cheeks before he could stop them, his body trembled,
showing the deepness of his emotions. I swallowed, unable to answer and took
him into my arms instead.
"I love you" he sobbed and let his head fall onto my shoulder.
"I love you, too, Faramir. You know that you mean everything
for me, little brother. Everything! Don't be afraid… "
Soothingly, I stroked over his hair, whispering words of comfort and promises
that I couldn't keep. After a while he got calm and with an fearful expression
on his face he sat down onto his bed, watching me with despair when I went.
If you enjoyed this story. please send feedback to: Vagabond
go to PART 2