Author: Alma Heart
Characters/Pairing: Faramir, Legolas
Disclaimer: All of Middle Earth is from the hand of Tolkien. I own nothing. I make no profit from the drabble
Argh, late again. Sorry.
Nightfall brought shadows, phantoms of ice-cold claws that tore at him, dragging his spirit deep into airless blackness until the dark choked him, crushed him, devoured him.
But the Warden put no torches in Faramir’s room, at the Steward‘s request.
Torchlight above his head brought dreams of licking fires, of screams. Smoke curled in his lungs like poison and chains of flame held him down, while just beyond his reach Father burned. Those dreams left Faramir struggling violently, so pain woke him to flickering firelight and his own hoarse screams.
No. Far better to dream of Nazgûl in the dark.
An elf appeared at his bedside. Exhaustion dulled Faramir’s mind; he barely heard the murmured greetings, couldn‘t respond.
Legolas’ eyes were gentle. “A gift.” He hung something beside the bed. Fear stirred in Faramir‘s throat; a torch.
Whispered elvish. Gentle light filled the room; almost a star’s shine. An elvish lantern
Legolas smiled, seeing the awe in his eyes. Faramir stared, struggling to speak.
The elf shushed him gently. “Thank me by sleeping well.”
Slumber cradled him beneath an elvish lullaby.
That night, shadow and flame were banished by elvish stars, and a king’s hands led him through the dark.