Chapter 28
Aragorn and Teleziel stared deeply into each other’s eyes, taking in each other’s measure. For his part, Aragorn saw the pain hidden deeply in Teleziel’s soul and his fear—something he understood—and the loneliness that he tried to hide. He saw stubbornness and pride and a will that was stronger than even he realized. How much courage must it have taken to live a life of forced solitude and silence? How many nights had the young man laid awake while his soul screamed into the night? How much fear did he repress and how much of his pride did he swallow? As Aragorn stared into Teleziel’s soul, he saw that there was much about the Haradrim that was noble and pure, a simple soul within a complex heart that could love unquestionably and give until there was nothing left but a drained husk. Faramir, perhaps, was far luckier than he realized.
Try as he might, Teleziel could look away from Aragorn’s gaze. He felt as though he were being touched in the most intimate places and, yet, the man had not touched him. He didn’t feel violated or even afraid. Teleziel recognized a sadness about him, something in the set of his shoulders or the way the light caught his eyes that made him feel a kindred spirit. At last, he offered a shy smile, and but did he know it, nearly melted the king’s heart.
Teleziel placed his hand in the king’s and felt the warm, strong fingers clasp his own and he felt as safe as when he was with Faramir. And he knew that here, as long as the one called Aragorn was beside him, no harm would ever befall him again. “Why did Pippin call you the king? Faramir said that Gondor had not a king, but a steward.”
“I am of the line of kings, but I am not yet king for the people have not yet accepted me. Someday, perhaps they will, in the meantime, I am simply Strider, a Ranger of the North. I have some skills as a healer and I would like for you to trust me enough to look after your wounds—and Faramir’s, for I understand he is gravely ill.”
Teleziel stared past Aragorn to Pippin. “You did not tell me that.”
Pippin dropped his head, but before he could defend himself, Aragorn spoke again. “Mithrandir asked that you not be told anything. For many days you have slept and much has happened.”
“Days? Are you the one who came with—ghosts?—as Pippin said?”
Aragorn gave Pippin a pained look. “It seems he’s spoken more than he should have, but I will forgive him for he is my friend and he meant well. Yes, I am the one who came with the—ah, ghosts. They were the Sleepless Dead and you have no need to fear them, for they returned whence they came and are now at peace. And, yes, I believe you were wounded many days ago, before I brought the ships and before Rohan came to offer their aid.”
“And the war, it is over now?”
“If you mean with the Dark Lord, then, no. But for the Haradrim, the war is over. Those who survived have already fled.” Aragorn watched the shifting expression in Teleziel’s eyes and wondered how hard it was to have one’s loyalties so divided. “Did you still have friends among them?”
“I have no friends among the Haradrim. Has Faramir been ill all this time?”
“All of the medicines the healers gave him failed,” responded Pippin.
“Now it is time for me to see what I can do for him. Will you come with me? Perhaps you can reach him where I cannot.” He tightened his grip on Teleziel’s fingers for emphasis.
“I need to see him.” Teleziel agreed as he pressed his back harder against the wall and tried to draw his aching leg beneath him to push himself upright. “The pain is not so bad, until I try to stand on it, then my leg collapses and I can hardly stand the pain.”
Aragorn looked beneath the bandages and examined the wounds. “They are healing well. Soon you will be able to stand and walk again without pain. Here, let me help you to stand. Do not fear, Teleziel, I will not let you fall.”
And Teleziel believed him, as easily and readily as he believed Faramir. What was it about the men of the west that commanded such trust? Were they all like this? Was he to spend his life wondering if he was good enough to measure up to Faramir and the men of Gondor?
With his arms around Teleziel, Aragorn easily supported the younger man and walked slowly with him to the cubicle where Faramir lay tossing fitfully. As if reading Teleziel’s mind, he spoke casually. “Not many like you would have had the strength to remain alive among the Haradrim. Even fewer would have been able to survive the punishment the Haradrim subject those like you to.”
Teleziel’s face colored and his lips thinned. He stared down at his feet. “I do not know of what you speak.”
Sensing Teleziel’s discomfort, Aragorn sought to put the Haradrim at ease. “I was not trying to embarrass you or pry. I once lived among your people and I saw what they thought of men who preferred other men. I only meant to compliment you on your strength and courage.”
“It wasn’t me,” Teleziel responded and wondered why someone like Aragorn—he’d never be able to think of the man as simply ‘Strider’—would go to Harad. “It was Faramir and his Rangers. They brought me to Ithilien and healed me, thinking that I might help them in some way.” He grunted and panted softly as Aragorn helped him along the corridor. “I have not done much to repay them for their kindnesses.”
“I think Faramir would disagree with you.” He asked then about Osgiliath and the friends Teleziel lost there. When the Haradrim answered, he asked even more questions about his actions in Minas Tirith, even though he had many of the answers already. And when he was done, they were at Faramir’s bedside and Teleziel gave a sharp, pained cry and struggled from Aragorn’s arms so that he knelt on the floor by the cot.
“Faramir?” He stroked the moist forehead and a strangled cry escaped from his throat. “What poison flows through him?”
“The poison of Mordor,” Aragorn replied. He sent Pippin off to see if the healer had yet found the athelas and a basin of warm water. “Do not fear, Teleziel, I will do whatever I can for him.”
“If you—“
“Do not say it. Do not think it. To do either is an insult to Lord Faramir and those who saved you and died saving you.”
Teleziel’s chin inched up a fraction, revealing a hint of stubbornness. “I was going to say that if you cannot help him, please do not let him suffer.”
Aragorn blinked and turned away so that Teleziel could not see the red creeping up on his cheeks and the back of his neck. How foolish of him to believe the Haradrim would wish to die simply because his master lived no more.
“It isn’t that I would care to live without Faramir. But I would not wish myself dead or try to take my own life. I have already tried to kill myself, and I will never forget the look on his face. He was horrified and sad and angry and, I think, scared. He worked hard to save my life after that and, I think I came very close to dieing then. And, yet, I did not want to die. I wanted to live. And I still want to live. I have never lived before until Faramir taught me how. I will live for him.”
“Your words are wise, Teleziel.” Aragorn touched the thin shoulder. “Now, I see that Pippin and the healer have come at last with my herbs and water. If you will permit it, I will do what I can.”
Without thinking, Teleziel leaned over and placed his lips against the scruffy jaw and kissed Aragorn. “Thank you.”
*~*
Faramir heard someone calling him as he wandered through the shadows and fog. Turning, he saw a man standing behind him and he took a tentative step forward. “Teleziel?”
“I am Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, Faramir, Steward of Gondor.”
And Faramir realized that the man was his king and his knee automatically bent and he bowed his head. “Sire.”
“Come with me, Faramir, back to the land of the living. Your time is not yet come.”
“I cannot, Sire,” Faramir shook his head and rose. “There is one I must find first.”
“Faramir, wait!” Aragorn called but the steward seemed not to hear him and turned away into the fog. Quickly, Aragorn followed, calling to Faramir, trying to force the Ranger to hear him.
*~*
Aragorn opened his eyes and straightened stiffly. He glanced around at Teleziel and Pippin and Gandalf. “He heard me, but he does not come. He said there is one he still must find.”
Pippin’s brow clouded. “Boromir?”
“I do not think so.” Aragorn stared down at Faramir’s waxy face. “He did not see you fall, Teleziel?”
“No, although I dreamed him.”
“Dreamed him?” Gandalf gave Teleziel a sharp look.
“More like a nightmare.” Teleziel related his dream.
“He thinks you are in the shadows.” Aragorn said at last. With a heavy sigh, he took Faramir’s head between his hands. “I will try again, although if he is searching for you, he likely will never listen to me.”
“Then tell him that he is looking in the wrong place and that I want him to come home,” Teleziel said.
*~*
“Teleziel!” Faramir cried as he wandered through
the fog. His legs and arms ached and his head was fuzzy. But he couldn’t
stop and rest. He had to keep searching for Teleziel.
A glimmer caught his vision and he turned, forcing his tired legs to run, until
he was closer to the figure. “Teleziel, wait!”
The figure turned and a funny smile quirked the fine lips beneath the beard. “Faramir, you do not belong here. It is not your time.”
“Boromir?” Faramir came to an abrupt halt and stared for a long time at his brother, taking in the welcome sight of him. When he could find his voice again, he said. “I’m searching for someone and I cannot leave without him.”
“He’s not here, Faramir. Return to the land of the living, as your king commanded.”
Faramir moved forward, but Boromir stepped back. “It is forbidden, brother, for us to touch. Believe me. Believe in me. I tell you the one you seek is not here.”
Turning this way and that, Faramir tried to see through the gloom. “I saw him.”
“He isn’t here now, Faramir,” Boromir looked beyond Faramir’s shoulder and his shoulders straightened. “He’s come. The one of whom my dreams spoke. Go with him, brother.”
“Boromir, no, wait.”
“We will meet again, Faramir. Now go before you are trapped here and cannot return to the one you love.”
Boromir faded into the fog, leaving Faramir alone.
“Faramir, son Denethor, I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, your king. I command you to come from the shadows.”
“I cannot leave without my friend.”
Aragorn smiled. “Teleziel said to tell you to come home.”
At last, Faramir took a tentative step forward. “You know him? You have spoken to him?”
“Aye, I have, Faramir. He’s well and waiting for
you. Come home.”