The Way Things Should Have Gone

Author’s Note--This was written to annoy Altariel, because this is her favorite scene in the book. Only it didn’t.

On the seventh day since the departure of the Armies of the West, Faramir and I stood together once more upon the walls of the City and looked out. Or rather, he stood, and I sat upon one of the merlons, whittling a stick, dangling my feet over the edge, and looking North, into the eye of the wind where the sky was hard and clear. It was a cold day, but we were both dressed warmly, and he wore a black cloak over all, while my faithful Ranger cloak served to warm me.

“What do you look for, Hethlin, and do you have to sit up there to do it? For Valar’s sake, come away from the edge!”

“I look for news, for we have had none. It has been seven days since they left. Do you think they are in battle even now?” One of the shavings from my whittling dropped down from the knife, onto the helm of a guard at the gate below is in the wall. It lodged upon one of the ridiculous sea-bird wings, but he did not notice.

“I think it likely. They should have been at the Black Gate by now, and my mind is burdened with presentiments of doom. So many have died already, and there were so few to set out.”

“You’re still upset over that dead girl aren’t you? The Lady of Rohan. The new King’s sister?”

“Yes, I suppose that I am. She was so beautiful, and so young, and she seemed so sad lying there.”

“But she did such a brave thing. I know better than anyone how hard that must have been.”

“Indeed.” He laid his hands upon the merlon for a moment. “In truth, she reminded me of my mother, which may be part of the problem.”

“Is that why you sent for that cloak to put on her? It was very beautiful. I am sure that she would have liked it.”

“Yes, it was my mother’s. It seemed fitting somehow.” He sighed, and I watched another shaving drift down onto the guardsman’s head.

“Goodness, but you are in a mood, aren’t you?”

“I feel as if we stand upon the brink of some dreadful disaster. And it doesn’t help that you’re practically leaning over the edge of that precipice! Come back here now.”

“It doesn’t bother me, my lord--I’ve always had a head for heights.”

“Well, I don’t have the stomach to watch that.” As he stretched out his hand to seize my shoulder, something happened. The wind died of a sudden, and the Sun itself seemed to dim and a great silence seemed to fall over everything. The City had been unusually quiet that morning, but now it was utterly still: there was no wind or sound of voice, no chirp of bird or bark of dog. We could not even hear our own breathing.

Then, after a time, it seemed that a vast darkness rose above the mountains to the east, towering like an enormous wave, though it was crowned with lightning. A tremor ran through the very earth itself, and the walls of the City quivered beneath me. I lost my balance, and might indeed have slipped off the merlon had not my Captain’s hand grasped my shoulder and swiftly hauled me back to him. I spun around clumsily as I landed and stumbled against him, ending up face to face with him. His eyes were wide and dark as they were when he wakened from dreaming.

“It reminds me of Numenor,” he murmured faintly, “of Westernesse that foundered, and of the great dark wave climbing over the green lands and above the hills, and coming on, darkness inescapable.” I began patting his cheek gently, to try to get him to come back to himself.

“Oh dear. Not the wave dream again! You know, you should really get the Warden to give you a sleeping draught, so you can get some proper rest.” After a moment, he blinked uncomprehendingly at me.

“Hethlin?” I suddenly realized that I was pressed close against him, and that he wasn’t protesting. And I had made that promise to Mablung, who was probably dying at the Black Gate even now........With doom hanging over our heads, it was time to seize the day, the moment and the Ranger. Twining my arms about his neck, I pulled his head down and kissed him soundly, if rather clumsily. Stiffening in shock for a moment, he began to respond after a bit, his mouth opening beneath mine.

We kissed for a long time, and a great wind rose up and began to blow, and our hair tangled and mingled, snow and shadow in the air. The horrible Shadow went away, and the Sun came out. The City was bathed in light, and the Anduin sparkled silver below us. Joy welled up in our hearts, for what reason we knew not, and when our lips parted, we remained pressed together, my hands upon his shoulders, lighter upon the left-side wounded one.

“I should really get back to work, get my archers ready in case they failed,” I said softly. Faramir looked down at me, his eyes tender.

“I do not think that will be necessary,” he said with a smile, and tipped his head back, looking up into the Sun. “All of a sudden I feel like singing!”

Blinking in sudden realization, I declared, “I do too!” Whereupon the man I loved looked down at me with a sweet smile.

“Please don’t!” he pleaded.