Pawns' Choices
Jul. 1st, 2007 07:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stuntie_jedThe chains rattled as he made his awkward way to the loo. He supposed he should be thankful that Boromir had moved the couch that night he left in such a hurry, because it seemed his guardians were ignoring him. Mostly. He hadn’t seen Paris in days and Boromir showed up to feed him and then left. He missed Faramir, the man he had known as Mark.
They had taken the mirror out, the one over the sink. He imagined that they didn’t want him turning the glass into a weapon, but he was grateful that he couldn’t see his reflection. He didn’t want to know what he looked like, whether the darkness that was within him showed in his eyes. But he found himself at odd moments looking at the mechanism of the toilet and wondering if he could take it apart and turn it into something else, something deadly. He always put the lid back on before the impulse could turn into action.
Another small blessing was the telly remote. He spent endless hours immersed in drivel, trying not to think about anything else, although the thought escaped sometimes that he wondered if Pete knew what had happened to him, why his stunt coordinator had disappeared. That hurt the most, he thought, that his big chance had turned to dust.
Sometimes he wondered why they bothered, knowing he was lost to himself, a sacrifice to the on-going war.
Faramir arrived at the warehouse for his long overdue turn at watch-duty. He'd missed Jed, but also was loathe to see him again in chains. This 'solution' was a safety for society, but failed to help the man trapped along with the monster. Still, Faramir would not give up on his friend, and refused to accept this as a permanent situation.
Tucked under Faramir's arm was a rectangular box made of wood, with ornate gold scriptwork worked into the lid. He also carried a large bag that wafted the aroma of french fries and cheeseburgers. He didn't see Jed right off, but a quick glance around the room showed the chains leading off to ... ah, right. "Jed? It's Faramir. But take your time, my friend."
Jed twisted his shoulders, trying to loosen the knot of tension. When Faramir called, he wondered how long he'd been standing blankly in the loo, staring at nothing. The smell of greasy food wafted in and despite his lack of appetite normally, his belly rumbled in response.
He walked out, dragging his chains. "I wasn't. Was just fucking . . . . " He didn't know how to explain what he had been doing, so he shut his gob and sat down.
Faramir watched Jed's progress back to his seat, "I know the chains make movement slow, Jed, I am sorry. But there is no need to be held accountable for simply going about your daily tasks here." Faramir had been puzzled by Jed's almost-explanation. He set the ornate box aside and pulled another chair closer to his friend, then handed over the bag of food. "I will find us some drinks in the kitchen, I will be right ba-- OH." Faramir suddenly laughed aloud, a strange sound in this dismal setting. "I was not thinking you were doing that in the bathroom!"
Jed gave Faramir an odd look, but he couldn't be bothered to figure out what the fuck the man was on about. He took a chip and chewed it, savouring the grease and heat of it. He bit into the cheeseburger, suddenly glad that Faramir was here, someone that he knew from before . . . before his life went literally to hell. As his stomach filled, his eye was caught by the box on the table. He'd been sunk in his own misery for so long that he almost didn't recognise what he was feeling as curiosity. He stared at it, pondering.
"Thanks for the kip, mate."
"Thank you for a reason to purchase it. Though I am well fed at home, it is beyond the comprehension of our cook to produce a well-made cheeseburger. I have tried to describe the ingredients to her, but she keeps bringing me venison steaks with bread perched atop." Faramir reached for a burger and tucked into it with obvious pleasure.
"How are you faring, Jed? Has the creature attempted to return again? Is the tea still helping? Tell me of your situation now."
"Considering I'm not fucking aware of it when it shows up, I don't fucking know if it's been back." Jed gritted his teeth. None of this was Faramir's fault and he shouldn't be taking his guilt and frustration out on the man.
"My situation is that I have no future. No job, no family, no nothing except a beast in my head. Not much else to say." He was striving for a detached tone of voice, trying to keep the bitterness at bay, but he hadn't quite accepted things yet, so it was bloody hard.
Faramir nodded, lips pursed together tightly. He stood and walked over to pick up the box he had brought, and as Faramir passed by his friend, he clapped a hand on Jed's shoulder, a mixed gesture of commiseration and frustration.
Another chair was hauled forward to serve as a table, upon which Faramir opened his carved box. It was a chess board. As he carefully set up the pieces, Faramir spoke. "We are all hapless players in a game larger than ourselves. We have already lost knights, and bishops, and I might venture to add, even a queen. But the pawns are as important as any other player, and harming them, brings harm to us all. I am truly regretful of your involvement in this situation. If there is anything I can do to bring aid to your family during your absence, please allow me to assist."
Jed swallowed. His family. The one thing he tried to avoid thinking about above all others. Knowing that he had lost them. His ex was no great loss, but never to see his children again was a bitter blow.
"I bloody well didn't choose to play this fucking game. But I guess that's the nature of pawns, eh? No fucking choice." He stared at the board, trying to remember the rules. He never was much for chess, but it was something to do other than thinking about slitting his wrists.
"We can choose, Jed. We can take small steps. Little choices." Faramir moved a pawn one by one square. "It was a small step to hold you here. A difficult one, but for now, it gives us an advantage. Perhaps soon a powerful move will be made, but again the pawns will take a step." Faramir touched a Bishop, causing it to wobble slightly. "We may be small, but we are many."
Jed hunched his shoulders against the unmanly tears that suddenly threatened. It was past time he accepted it. Faramir was brutal, but perhaps he had the right of it. "Thanks, mate. Understand now, I do. The war's the important thing and some pawns have to be lost. I get it."
Faramir noted the change in his friends features, and reached to lay a hand on the man's shoulder. "Do not lose hope. I never will. I promise you, I will continue to try to find a way to free you, if it takes until my last breath. I will not give up on you, my friend."
They had taken the mirror out, the one over the sink. He imagined that they didn’t want him turning the glass into a weapon, but he was grateful that he couldn’t see his reflection. He didn’t want to know what he looked like, whether the darkness that was within him showed in his eyes. But he found himself at odd moments looking at the mechanism of the toilet and wondering if he could take it apart and turn it into something else, something deadly. He always put the lid back on before the impulse could turn into action.
Another small blessing was the telly remote. He spent endless hours immersed in drivel, trying not to think about anything else, although the thought escaped sometimes that he wondered if Pete knew what had happened to him, why his stunt coordinator had disappeared. That hurt the most, he thought, that his big chance had turned to dust.
Sometimes he wondered why they bothered, knowing he was lost to himself, a sacrifice to the on-going war.
Faramir arrived at the warehouse for his long overdue turn at watch-duty. He'd missed Jed, but also was loathe to see him again in chains. This 'solution' was a safety for society, but failed to help the man trapped along with the monster. Still, Faramir would not give up on his friend, and refused to accept this as a permanent situation.
Tucked under Faramir's arm was a rectangular box made of wood, with ornate gold scriptwork worked into the lid. He also carried a large bag that wafted the aroma of french fries and cheeseburgers. He didn't see Jed right off, but a quick glance around the room showed the chains leading off to ... ah, right. "Jed? It's Faramir. But take your time, my friend."
Jed twisted his shoulders, trying to loosen the knot of tension. When Faramir called, he wondered how long he'd been standing blankly in the loo, staring at nothing. The smell of greasy food wafted in and despite his lack of appetite normally, his belly rumbled in response.
He walked out, dragging his chains. "I wasn't. Was just fucking . . . . " He didn't know how to explain what he had been doing, so he shut his gob and sat down.
Faramir watched Jed's progress back to his seat, "I know the chains make movement slow, Jed, I am sorry. But there is no need to be held accountable for simply going about your daily tasks here." Faramir had been puzzled by Jed's almost-explanation. He set the ornate box aside and pulled another chair closer to his friend, then handed over the bag of food. "I will find us some drinks in the kitchen, I will be right ba-- OH." Faramir suddenly laughed aloud, a strange sound in this dismal setting. "I was not thinking you were doing that in the bathroom!"
Jed gave Faramir an odd look, but he couldn't be bothered to figure out what the fuck the man was on about. He took a chip and chewed it, savouring the grease and heat of it. He bit into the cheeseburger, suddenly glad that Faramir was here, someone that he knew from before . . . before his life went literally to hell. As his stomach filled, his eye was caught by the box on the table. He'd been sunk in his own misery for so long that he almost didn't recognise what he was feeling as curiosity. He stared at it, pondering.
"Thanks for the kip, mate."
"Thank you for a reason to purchase it. Though I am well fed at home, it is beyond the comprehension of our cook to produce a well-made cheeseburger. I have tried to describe the ingredients to her, but she keeps bringing me venison steaks with bread perched atop." Faramir reached for a burger and tucked into it with obvious pleasure.
"How are you faring, Jed? Has the creature attempted to return again? Is the tea still helping? Tell me of your situation now."
"Considering I'm not fucking aware of it when it shows up, I don't fucking know if it's been back." Jed gritted his teeth. None of this was Faramir's fault and he shouldn't be taking his guilt and frustration out on the man.
"My situation is that I have no future. No job, no family, no nothing except a beast in my head. Not much else to say." He was striving for a detached tone of voice, trying to keep the bitterness at bay, but he hadn't quite accepted things yet, so it was bloody hard.
Faramir nodded, lips pursed together tightly. He stood and walked over to pick up the box he had brought, and as Faramir passed by his friend, he clapped a hand on Jed's shoulder, a mixed gesture of commiseration and frustration.
Another chair was hauled forward to serve as a table, upon which Faramir opened his carved box. It was a chess board. As he carefully set up the pieces, Faramir spoke. "We are all hapless players in a game larger than ourselves. We have already lost knights, and bishops, and I might venture to add, even a queen. But the pawns are as important as any other player, and harming them, brings harm to us all. I am truly regretful of your involvement in this situation. If there is anything I can do to bring aid to your family during your absence, please allow me to assist."
Jed swallowed. His family. The one thing he tried to avoid thinking about above all others. Knowing that he had lost them. His ex was no great loss, but never to see his children again was a bitter blow.
"I bloody well didn't choose to play this fucking game. But I guess that's the nature of pawns, eh? No fucking choice." He stared at the board, trying to remember the rules. He never was much for chess, but it was something to do other than thinking about slitting his wrists.
"We can choose, Jed. We can take small steps. Little choices." Faramir moved a pawn one by one square. "It was a small step to hold you here. A difficult one, but for now, it gives us an advantage. Perhaps soon a powerful move will be made, but again the pawns will take a step." Faramir touched a Bishop, causing it to wobble slightly. "We may be small, but we are many."
Jed hunched his shoulders against the unmanly tears that suddenly threatened. It was past time he accepted it. Faramir was brutal, but perhaps he had the right of it. "Thanks, mate. Understand now, I do. The war's the important thing and some pawns have to be lost. I get it."
Faramir noted the change in his friends features, and reached to lay a hand on the man's shoulder. "Do not lose hope. I never will. I promise you, I will continue to try to find a way to free you, if it takes until my last breath. I will not give up on you, my friend."
