Chapter 30 - The Mirror

The mirror was as black as the night sky, with stars shining back at him as though reflected from above. But the water of the mirror was somehow deeper than the sky, and darker than the blackest of nights. And the stars within it seemed cold and clung only to the surface.

Faramir almost looked away from the water, wondering what the Lady had meant him to see. But something compelled him to look on. And it was only a moment before the stars suddenly faded, leaving the water empty. He felt something rising within him, a feeling of anticipation... of dread.

The emptiness drew him closer, filling the whole of his vision with darkness.

Then it was as though parts of the darkness fell away, revealing shapes of light. And the shadows that remained formed a mass, like a great army moving across bare plains. He could almost see the glint of their armour in the sun.

Then the shadow army was gone, and light shone brightly before him. The land was bare and windswept, and his vision was drawn to the only settlement in sight. Edoras. He recognised the citadel on the peak by its description. Set high upon a great hill, its only miliary advantage being its great height above land. The land of the horse-masters. It was indeed a spectacular sight!

Then Faramir thought of the army and was afraid. These people who lived in the small houses on the windy hillside would not stand long against such a great force.

The green banner of the white horse fluttered proudly above the highest building, and Faramir was amazed by the architectural skill of the ones who had built in such a desolate place.

A white flower grew beneath the city gates, and he wondered at his ability to see such a small thing from that distance. But it seemed to call to him, cold and proud amid a place where no life flourished in comfort and prosperity.

The vision changed, and Faramir felt himself despairing at its loss. For the beautiful white flower was gone and in its place was the white tower of Ecthelion, and he feared what he might see within the walls of his home. A shadow surrounded the city, and the outer walls seemed tainted with blood. He could feel the fear that rose from the city and smell the stench of death from bodies heaped beneath the walls. His stomach heaved at the sight.

Vaguely Faramir realised he was holding his breath. Barricades had been placed on the walls and the great gate, yet he saw with horror that the Gateway was open and the shadow was already streaming through!

The vision changed again, and he drew a sharp breath of relief. He could not have watched the defeat of his home knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent it! He saw the tower once more, and felt his body relax as he saw that it still held its majestic beauty.

Yet something was still amiss, for at top of the White Tower a red light shone forth. In that instant he was reminded of the great eye on the highest tower of Barad-dûr miles across the river, and saw with horror that the light originated from the chambers of his father...

Rushing forwards he felt the flames before he saw them, felt the fire leap towards him with intolerable heat. He cried out when the flames touched his skin, the image of the Balrog and its fiery whip jerking his memory. The smell of burning flesh, his own, reached him, and he could feel the red tongues touching his bare arms with pain. He stumbled back, but the fire still came. He choked, breathing in the dark fumes as the tapestries on the walls were reduced to charred and blackened threads. He dropped to his knees, closing his eyes against the vile fumes and taunting flames.

His eyes stung, and he knew the flames to be upon him. He called out for his father, just once, but there was no reply save the roar of flame - and his own weak breathing as he lost hope.

Faramir opened his eyes as a rush of cold air brushed his face. He was alone. No longer was he kneeling weakly amid the destruction of his father's chambers, he was in the clearing beneath the stars, surrounded by the silent night of Lorien.

Trembling, he breathed the clean air, yet still the flames seemed upon his skin. He felt the perspiration on his brow begin to cool, but could not forget the heat of the burning room, nor the smell of burning flesh. He glanced down at his trembling hands, fearing what he might see. But they were clean and there was no sign of flame or ash. Yet he could feel it even now, a slow burn beneath his skin.

He looked up and saw a thin trail of smoke rising from the mirror. He forced himself to stand, swallowing at the burning sensation clinging to his legs.

Looking around for the Lady Galadriel he saw that she had left him and wondered if her absence could be due to what the mirror had revealed. But she had offered him the chance to look into such an instrument of magic, and he must seek her out for any explanation she could give.

Faramir moved slowly up the staircase, clenching his hands into fists as if he could rub away the burning from his fingers. His vision seemed to be blurred, and he thought of the smoke filled air in the tower.

Perhaps in truth he was still there, waiting to die with the ashes of his house. Perhaps all this was a smoke induced fantasy... But then he remembered the mirror, and that it had been a vision. He had seen someone's death... His father? brother? Or was it that he had felt the manner of his own end? Was that why the fire clung to him still?

"Faramir?"

He looked up at the speaker, his vision blurring with each step. He could make out the background of trees behind, and a figure with golden hair. "Legolas?"

"No. It is I, Haldir. Here, take my arm. You are unwell." The voice sounded sympathetic and Faramir wanted nothing more than to tell the strong Elf what he had seen. But too long had he guarded his emotions from those around him, and he let himself by led onwards in silence.

Haldir made him sit with a back to a tree and crouched beside him in concern. When the Elf's cold hand touched his shoulder he felt the fire that had taunted his senses disappear, leaving his body numb and weak.

They remained in silence some moments, and Faramir, now beginning to regain his senses, felt ashamed that he had acted so weakly.

"There has been an attack on the border," Haldir said after a time. "A scouting party of Orcs. They Lady sent me to you."

Faramir suddenly felt very tired. There did not seem to be any hope for Middle Earth. He had seen his city fall to Sauron, and now it seemed as though even the haven of the Elves was not safe.

"She was worried that you might have seen something," Haldir prompted.

Faramir sighed, seeing the Elf was not going to leave him. "I believe my brother is dead and my city on the edge of ruin."

Haldir's calm facade broke for a moment, and Faramir caught a glimpse of the turmoil within. "The mirror shows many things, not all of which come to pass," he said. "The future can always be changed by wise or foolish decisions, and there is always hope."

The Elf stood, looking down for a moment. Then he reached up and removed his cloak, passing it down to Faramir. "You should sleep here tonight. I shall see to it that you are not disturbed."

"Thank you, Haldir."

The Elf left him, and Faramir felt like a child that had been sent to bed. He was so weary that he did sleep, yet his dreams were dark and full of fire and death.

It was still early when Faramir returned to the canopy the rest of the Fellowship had slept beneath. Gimli stared at him with narrowed eyes, expecting an instant explanation, and he felt the eyes of the others upon him when he was looking away.

Aragorn came up to him as they were packing for the journey and looked hard into his face. "Are you well, Faramir?"

"Aye," he replied, not meeting Aragorn's eyes. "Though I will be more so when Gimli removes his eyes from by back!"

Aragorn glanced over the other man's shoulder to see Gimli's gaze still upon them. He did not smile, and said instead, "I believe some of us will be glad to leave the Golden Wood, for here we have seen things ahead that might make us want to turn back."

Faramir's face remained blank at Aragorn's perceptiveness and with a sigh the other changed the subject.

"Our departure has been delayed till after noon. The Galadhrim need time to grieve the news of last night."

"Grieve?" Faramir asked, feeling an unknown fear creep inside him.

"You have not been told?" Aragorn sighed, "There are three dead. And among them is Haldir's brother Orophin. This is a black day for the people of the Golden wood."

Faramir did not hear Aragorn's last words, he had closed his eyes and was remembering his selfish words the night before.

I believe my brother is dead

Had Haldir known then that his own brother had been slain. Of course he had! That was what Faramir had seen in the Elf's eyes when he had mentioned his trouble."

"Faramir?"

He realised Aragorn was talking to him, but his eyes would not focus. Tears of self-reproach blurred his vision, and he knew he would have to go and find Haldir. "I am sorry Aragorn, I must go."

He did not look back to see if he was followed.

He found Haldir on the banks of the Anduin. The Elf did not sense his approach and Faramir found it hard to speak past the tightness of his throat.

"If you have come to offer your sympathies there was no need."

Faramir was surprised and slightly taken aback by the blank note of the Elf's voice and he did not move any closer.

"I am sorry Haldir, for what I said and did last night." He felt relieved to have said it, but no less wretched knowing that the Elf had spent time caring for him when he should have been grieving with his family.

The Elf turned slowly, looking at him carefully. "Would dwelling on my loss have made the pain any easier to bear? Was it not better that my attention be given to one that could be helped than one already lost to me?"

Faramir could make no reply. Again he felt like a child.

"You must remember this, should something similar happen to you." The Elf turned his head to look at the river once more, and Faramir felt compelled to leave.

But as he moved away the Elf spoke again, "I have brought this for you."

Faramir looked back to see Haldir holding out a bow he had seen before on the grass.

"It was Orophin's, and there is no one to use it now."

Faramir's hand trembled as he took the bow, and he felt the last person who deserved such a gift.

"May it protect on your road home to your brother."

Faramir grasped Haldir's outstretched arm but could find no words to express his gratitude.

"What I said, Gimli," Faramir explained, slightly frustrated, "was that my love of a weapon is for what it defends, not what it destroys."

The Dwarf shrugged, sighing slightly as the last of the supplies were moved into the boats. "I wonder if I shall ever recover..." he said, "for surely nothing after could compare to her beauty."

Faramir groaned, this had been going on for over an hour!

"The boats are prepared." The voice from behind startled them both. "they are said to be strong, though I wonder if they can hold your weight, master Dwarf." Legolas stepped lightly away from Gimli's swipe of the hand as the Dwarf snapped out of his dreamy mood. "I for one," Legolas continued, "will enjoy the sight of a Dwarf with a wet beard."

"And I," Gimli said with a smile," will be just as entranced by the sight of a drowning Elf! We are traveling in the same boat!"

Legolas' smile fell away, and he gaped at the Dwarf for a moment. Then his eyes moved to Faramir for confirmation. The man shrugged, unwilling to get involved.

Gimli began to laugh as Legolas ran past him.

"Aragorn!" Faramir heard the Elf saying, "I will not travel in the same boat as that Dwarf!"