They make it out of the camp
Chapter 6: Payback
this page added by Cyndra (fantasyficwriter@yahoo.com)
The merrymaking had finally died down and the men stumbled to their tents to sleep off the ale and celebration. Inside his tent, Tirion’s eyes slowly began to droop and the mug fell from his hand spilling the remaining ale on the ground.
The orcs were running back to Mordor with their tales between their legs; Boromir and the other officers were singing his praises over his successful plan of capturing Captain Faramir.
The Lieutenant laughed to himself. The look on Mablung’s face when they grabbed Faramir right under the rangers’ noses was priceless. Though he was sure Mablung and the rangers would retaliate it would not be tonight. No, Faramir was a prisoner, captured easily from a plan he had personally formulated and the captain general himself had congratulated him on a job well done. Could life get better?
Yes. It could be better. From the moment Lord Boromir had introduced his younger brother to the company Tirion had savored the moment. Faramir displayed a look of pure innocence and eagerness to please that Tirion was instantly drawn to him.
It seemed he was not alone in his desire. He had seen Mablung’s reaction when Faramir had been captured. The large ranger was enraged. Glaring at those who dared placed their hands on the young captain. If Boromir had seen the deadly glare Mablung had delivered when the Captain-General placed the knife to Faramir’s throat the two large men would have come to blows that moment.
If Boromir even suspected the seasoned ranger’s true intentions…Tirion smiled such information should not be kept from the Captain-General.
He started to climb to his feet but remembered the amount of ale Boromir had consumed during tonight’s celebration. The Captain General was either passed out in his tent or having a little fun at his brother’s expense. Either way, Boromir would not want to be disturbed.
On second thought if Boromir were asleep, he would not be a hindrance and Tirion could use the opportunity to tell Faramir how he felt. He knew with Faramir tied and gagged, the younger man would have no choice to listen even if he rejected Tirion’s affection.
So confident in his thoughts he was taken totally by surprise when a sword was placed against his throat.
“Make a sound and it will be your last,” the husky voice whispered in a warning tone.
Tirion turned his head slightly and gasped recognizing the intruders.
“The tables have turned, have they not?” Mablung declared confidently as he removed his blade. He glanced over his shoulder. “What are your orders, Captain?”
Faramir approached shaking his head at the stunned lieutenant. “My rangers want retribution. To spare you the indignity you and my brother cast upon me I ask only you tell us Lord Boromir’s location. Refuse and become our prisoner.”
Mablung muttered something and a brief conversation took place between the large ranger and the young captain in a language Tirion could not understand.
Faramir’s face blushed with embarrassment before he shook his head. “I cannot permit such disrespect for a fellow soldier.”
Tirion’s eyes narrowed into slits watching with renewed jealousy as Mablung placed his arm around Faramir’s shoulders. Mablung glanced at Tirion making sure the Lieutenant understood his next words. “There is no disrespect, Captain. Have you not realized tis done in fun? Allow the rangers their fun.”
“So say the rest?” Faramir inquired seeking the advice of the two men guarding the tent’s entrance.
“Aye, my lord,” Anborn nodded. “Honor is at stake. Our captain was captured and taken from Ithilien. To not retaliate would be an insult.”
“Anborn keep watch outside,” Faramir ordered the ranger. “Boromir feigns drunkenness so his opponent will become negligent. I trust not my brother when it comes to competition. In silence Boromir is most dangerous.”
Anborn nodded and disappeared out into the darkness. Faramir turned to his trusty Lieutenant. “What say you, Damrod?”
“Long have I played these games with the Captain-General,” Damrod added with reassurance. The veteran ranger eyed the prisoner with a leering grin. “Humiliation is part of the game. This one will survive.”
Suddenly sober Tirion climbed to his feet. “F…Faramir,” he stuttered keeping his attention focused on the youngest man. He did not like what the seasoned rangers were planning. He raised his voice hoping his men would hear the urgency in his voice and come to investigate. “Whatever Lord Boromir plans I do not know. His words were to capture you without haste.”
“And we return the favor,” Mablung grinned. “Now Lieutenant if you would be so kind. Remove your clothing.”
“What?” Tirion shouted appalled at the ranger’s demand. His anger intensified refusing to obey his captors’ request. “I will not relent to such an insulting demand.”
“Remove them or have them removed,” Damrod warned. The Dunedain folded his arms and approached the defiant Lieutenant. “Heed my words or be carried out unconscious.”
“The Captain General will not accept this lightly,” Tirion stated as he began disrobing. He made one last attempt to plead to Faramir’s sense of honor. “Never my Lord, would I expect you to approve such disrespect.”
“I regret that it is you Tirion and not my brother,” Faramir admitted with pity. “I would give a month’s wages if Boromir were here.”
“You have gotten your wish.”
What happens next?