In the white tower

[hafweb]

Faramir crept quietly into the tower, his heart breaking and swelling with hope at the same time. He knew his Father would not be pleased to see him, and yet maybe the news that he, Faramir, would ride into battle with little thought for his own safety might melt some of the ice that gripped his soul.

His Father stood, a dark figure at the window casting the whole room into shadow. Taking a slow breath, Faramir stepped out into the light.
"Father," he smiled through gritted teeth. "If this will please you, I would have you know that I ride to defend Osgiliath in the morning."
"Very good." his Fatehr sneered. "A chance for Captain Faramir to proove his worth. How long do you suppose it will be before Osgiliath falls?"
"It will not fall..." Faramir faltered.
"Go then." Denethor said. "And do as you will."

Bowing to the Steward, Faramir turned to go. His father had returned to the window, never taking his gaze from the small flickering sunset in the West where his elder son was meeting in Rivendell. HIs hands trembling from this slight encounter with the man he most feared and yet loved nonetheless, Faramir descended from the White tower to make preperations for the battle, his last spark of hope stmaped out.

((Sorry about the extreme powerplaying there, but there is not yet a Denethor, so... yeah ;D))

[Aizreal]

Grey eyes watched him cautiously yet they seemed to drink in every move he made. Her mind clicked in and inscribed everything about him that she could possibly observe from that safe distance.

She knew the look of the defeated she had witnessed it time and time before. Heck it was one of her most commonly used facial expression and with a thought the soft look of her face was replaced with a vicious sneer one that if she was lucky one that would be overlooked as it wouldn’t serve a purpose to be outed a servant much less the apprentice of the White Hand particularly here when she was armed with little more than a holy rag and a bucket of soapy water.

She continued to observe him shrugging the auburn braid over her shoulder and giving a huff to move the loose hair that had fell into her view.

This look the look that youngest heir held was one that screamed that that she had just wasted her time. And her annoyance flashed into her glance momentarily. As her thoughts were written across her face.

I wasted my time as I am observing a dead man. My luck his Worshipfulness has sent me on another wild goose hunt..Might as well have me observing that Mouse in the kitchen at least it will live to see the raising of a new day.

Her gaze was sidetracked as a cat came strutting by with a mouse in his mouth its bones crunching with each movement of the cats jaw.

Her eyes fell back over to him as she scrubbed the floor trying her best to fit in and look like an average servant a look that really ought to have been mastered as that is what she spent a better part of her life as.

Her eyes traced over the small details. The hunched shoulders, the sick look that his eyes held.

” Amazing!” Aizreal thought, “ I have seen more confidence and hope in the eyes of cow being lead to slaughter”

She knew the truth if this was the best and finest of Denethor that she could at least return to her master with the good new that the heirs to Denethor shouldn’t cause much trouble as it would be doubtful they would survive to see the end of the month.
”Is he just trying to look pathetic” Aizreal mind clicked she assumed that the good Prince was simply doing what she had been know to do herself a time or two.” He hoping that the good king will show mercy and love and dear I say__”

The last thought was mirrored in her words as it slipped from her lips as her hand sloshed around more water half heartedly her gaze never falling from him strangely though her gaze held more of a predatorily look.

“Acceptance” For a minute there she looked like she had stumbled onto a mine of Gold and it seemed for Aizreal there in that corridor with that small realization she did stumble onto something precious and treasured she had discovered a possible vulnerability. Though she didn’t know a lot of Faramir she seemed to know enough now to exploit his weakness. The question now rested with the Where and How. Which for her were completely do able.

[hafweb]

Faramir started as he caught sight of a girl with long auburn hair staring keenly at him. He rubbed his temples, his tired hands moving down to wipe sleep from his eyes. Blinking wearily, he looked away, out to where he could see something of Osgiliath. He was so tired... there was little hope left for the city. He knew he could not win a battle against the armies that would oppose him; for every man he had under his control there were ten orc or uruk-hai waiting to slay them.

He looked back over to the girl. He briefly wondered if she might have some message for him, but he quickly dismissed the thought. As his days had steadily become wreathed in darkness, so had more people cast their eyes over him in disapproval as he traipsed through the streets. The look of despair hung over him like a dark cloud, and people picked up on that. They could not understand what he went up against every day when he spoke with his father... He longed to see his brother again. That was one person he could confide in. But he had left many days ago now, and already Faramir was feeling the pain of loss.

[Aizreal]

Leaning down she pulled the soppy rag across the hard and jagged stone that made up the floor in which she was cleaning. It had been at least, good four or five years since she was forced to do menial labor. To her amazement she fell back to the unskilled profession of her youth as if it not a minute had passed. She looked up at the corridor that had been her responsibility to scrub till her fingers were raw.

Her hand raked back across her face pulling the few strands of auburn hair that fell from the tight braid that lay over her shoulder. Her glance momentarily shifted to the young man that seemed so distant and so very grim though she would never approve of him she did understand his manner as it was the manner that suited any that was destined for a tragic end. And face it in that time and place Farmir had done the un-thinkable he had reached the tragic end without dying first.

The commoner’s scream for vindication for their suffering, could be heard every time one braved a walk threw the village. Though little would ever be found though as days passed to weeks and weeks passed to months it seemed the wages of war had found the necessary villain. It seemed in the wake of the heir absence all eyes fell to the one that was left and to disgrace of his father the youngest seemed to choke under pressure. And to add to the height of the mortification of the king the weakness of Farmir was felt by those left for fight for his lands.

The cloak of failure that seemed to engulf him was felt she could almost taste it, as it hung in the air and it seemed to affect all with a mood of despair. This lot was different than what she had remembered of Him. The arrogant child who used to openly tracked mud across freshly cleaned floors was gone and now a shell of his former self. Though time did change all the scared little girl that was content to hand scrub the floor was gone as well. Her own face un-recognizable in the glimmer of the wet stone. Only thing that remained the same was the eyes that reflected the color of winters frost. Looking up at him her words were aimed to do more pain than good though she found them a disappointment once they were spoken.

“Just how do you plan to inspire those who fight and die for your lands, when you yourself have already given up on hope. Has the hope and dream of your people fell with the blade that will no doubt befall the Brave Brother.”