Chapter 9 - Madness

Madness ran in his family.

He had lost his mother to the call of the sea, his father had gone mad over a stone and his brother a ring. Was there any real surprise that the curse would come to claim him, too?

Faramir sat on the bed in the meagre cell and banged his head softly on the cold wall behind him as the thoughts bubbled and boiled.

That the time would come should never have been in doubt but that his fall should be so public and so treacherous. He closed his eyes to stop the tears that formed there from running down his grubby cheeks again.

Why had he done it? He had suffered it was true, but no more than any other, and he had survived. His life had the potential to be truly blessed with the beautiful woman he loved, their gorgeous children in Ithilien and a position of respect and true power at court. Why had he thrown it all away? Why had he betrayed them all?

His thoughts went back as they had on numerous occasions that night to the instant he stood before the King. He knew what he had been about to do but he couldn’t stop himself as his hand ran along the hilt of the dagger at his belt. The King was smiling at him warmly. How could he have thrown that trust away?

Faramir stood up abruptly and began pacing the room. His father had known. His father had seen all those years ago that his youngest son had the heart of a traitor. Denethor had known that he would betray everything, and for what? Faramir’s logical mind crucified itself as it retraced his actions desperate to find some reason, some explanation for his actions.

As he stood before the King, he had had a frightening flashback, it was true. In that instant he had been standing on the Bridge at Osgiliath as it burned all around him, but it was not that easy. He would not allow himself the comfort of blaming a memory. Faramir had known what he was doing as he drew the knife. Although the battle noise had raged in his head, he had known that it was the King and no orc he was about to kill. He had tried to stop the thrust, he had even made himself hesitate, but the overwhelming compulsion had taken him.

He smashed the wall with uncharacteristic fury, or was it uncharacteristic? Hadn’t he always been this way? Hadn’t he just fooled himself that he did not like to fight, that he preferred more scholarly pursuits because he knew he would always be second best to his brother when it came to war? Hadn’t he built a wall of pseudo wisdom and control around himself because he feared the deep anger that dwelt deep in his inner being?

Hadn’t this madness always been there watching and waiting? He had channelled it into the fight during the war of the ring when he had been able to disguise it as a force for good, but when that avenue was closed to him, hadn’t it always been the case that it would fester deep inside getting stronger and stronger until one day it would overcome his feeble attempts to control it?

How he had fooled them all. They all thought him dependable and dedicated to his role as Steward. How stupid they must feel now that the true blackness of his heart had been revealed. And of course, he saw with perfect clarity that the one he had fooled most completely was himself. He should have listened to his father, he had known the truth, and he had known his second son’s true quality.

He gazed up through the bars at the window above him. The sky was slowly turning from the deep night hue to the grey of dawn. A new day was coming, a day of more pain and failure.

He slumped back down on the bed as his memories raced crazily. He remembered the ring and how it had called to him. He had been stupid enough to believe that he had had the strength to resist its lure. He snorted at the thought that he could have been so misguided. He had believed he was a good man, a reasonable man, that his motives were just and wise. Now he looked back on the brittle façade that he had hidden behind for so many years and saw how easily it had been smashed to pieces. All foolish thoughts of goodness and honour had been ripped away. Now he knew what he was and so did everyone else.

He shivered although the cell was not cold. He had finally been revealed before his peers. He had not been able to keep his weakness hidden any longer. How they must hate him now. All those people who had put their faith in him, all those people who had been deceived by the elaborate mask he had hidden behind. He had betrayed them all.

Still his mind sought explanation and returned to the thought ‘Why did I do it?’

For numerous times that night the answer hit him with the pain of an arrow point; ‘because you are mad.’ There was no other possible explanation, no reason that he should try to kill the man he most respected in the whole world. He, who had been praised for his intellect and insight, could surely grasp that simple concept.

There was no escape, no place he could find to hide from this overwhelming truth. And why should he escape it? He had fallen so shamefully low, behaved with such despicable evil, wasn’t this torment all he really deserved.

“Mad,” he said out loud, his voice gravelled by torment. “Mad, mad, mad, mad, mad.”

He repeated the word and again, although not as gently this time, banged the back of his head on the wall behind.

As the spring sun rose over the White City, Faramir found no comfort in the shaft of light that speared into his cell. He was dirty, tainted and unclean, never again would he feel pure enough to embrace the cold integrity of such light.

Instead he pushed it out of his mind and allowed his thoughts to rampage back to the beginning of the circle once more.

Madness ran in his family.............................................................