LOTR Drabble: Duty and Devotion
Jul. 14th, 2007 01:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
martasficTitle: Duty and Devotion
Summary: Beregond decides to desert his post to save Faramir.
Word Count: 200
Rating: Teen (mature themes)
Timeline: Late Third Age (bookverse)
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Beregond paced – fifteen steps to the Tree, then back to the gate. He focused on his boots’ clacking against the cobblestone path. Anything to keep his feet.
He heard the perian’s frantic words as if Pippin called through a fog. The rumours had flown like eagles: the Captain was deadly ill, he but slept away the week’s weariness, he was dead indeed. Who could say? Yet Pippin claimed he knew the truth, that Faramir was not dead – not yet.
And still Beregond paced. He cursed under his breath – how could Pippin, favored whim of the Steward, know what he asked of him? Even to be a simple man-of-arms here was privilege, and not one easily earned. What of the other guards who had carried him down Rath Dínen? Why must Beregond be the one to sacrifice his honour?
A shadow swept across the courtyard; Beregond did not need to look skyward to see Mordor’s servant. And suddenly he felt a laugh build in his chest. What foolishness, to think of honour and rank when Gondor fell to her knees! Death came for them all. Why not die for one he loved?
Beregond unsheathed his sword and dashed for the gate.
Summary: Beregond decides to desert his post to save Faramir.
Word Count: 200
Rating: Teen (mature themes)
Timeline: Late Third Age (bookverse)
------
Beregond paced – fifteen steps to the Tree, then back to the gate. He focused on his boots’ clacking against the cobblestone path. Anything to keep his feet.
He heard the perian’s frantic words as if Pippin called through a fog. The rumours had flown like eagles: the Captain was deadly ill, he but slept away the week’s weariness, he was dead indeed. Who could say? Yet Pippin claimed he knew the truth, that Faramir was not dead – not yet.
And still Beregond paced. He cursed under his breath – how could Pippin, favored whim of the Steward, know what he asked of him? Even to be a simple man-of-arms here was privilege, and not one easily earned. What of the other guards who had carried him down Rath Dínen? Why must Beregond be the one to sacrifice his honour?
A shadow swept across the courtyard; Beregond did not need to look skyward to see Mordor’s servant. And suddenly he felt a laugh build in his chest. What foolishness, to think of honour and rank when Gondor fell to her knees! Death came for them all. Why not die for one he loved?
Beregond unsheathed his sword and dashed for the gate.