By Berzerker_prime
Notes: While surfing the Henneth Annun website, I came across their “Don’t Worry, Be Happy!” challenge which was to write a ficlet where Faramir was totally angst-free. I was promptly attacked by plot bunnies and this is the one who won the battle for the hour of time that I had to do anything.
A quickie and a little unpolished, but, what the hey. ^_^
Enjoy!
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Aragorn couldn’t help but smile at the sight
of his Steward. Without a doubt, Faramir was one of the most passionate
and compassionate men he had ever known. And that was saying more
than a trifle, for Aragorn had known many a passionate man in his day,
from Thengel of Rohan to Halbarad of the Dunedain. Many of those
passionate men were now dead.
Silently, he sent a prayer to the Valar and
great Illuvatar that Faramir was not one of them. He did not know
how he would have managed becoming King of Gondor, how he would have kept
his sanity these past three years, if not for the younger man’s support.
Although he had been to Minas Tirith before, using the name Thorongil,
there was still a great deal about the White City that he did not know.
But now, here in the dead of night of the
Citadel, he pushed such thoughts aside. Now was a time for a quiet
celebration between friends.
Faramir had just returned to Minas Tirith,
in the dead of night no less, after he and his White Company had been off
on an extended mission to dispense with an unruly, invading hoard of Orcs
in Ithilien. The Steward had wasted no time in coming to the Citadel
to greet his wife and year-old son. Eowyn and Elboron had been staying
with the King and his family while Faramir was away for the child had begun
to make something of a bother of himself, ever getting into things and
making typical infant fusses during the night. Eowyn, Faramir had
deemed, needed more than just the assistance of the servants in their own
city in Ithilien; she needed the company of another understanding mother.
Queen Arwen fit that description well enough, as she was now caring for
her first son, the Crown Prince Eldarion who was only half a year younger
than Elboron.
Finding Eowyn fast asleep when he had gotten
to Minas Tirith, Faramir had been unable to bring himself to wake her.
She slept so peacefully that he had not wanted to break the seeming spell.
But, of course, Elboron had been awake enough to react when he had entered
and had pulled himself up by the bars of his crib when he set eyes on his
father. So, Faramir had brought him out into the courtyard, the night
being warm. He walked with the toddler in his arms.
Aragorn had to laugh to himself when he finally
came upon them. So eager to spend time with his son had Faramir been
that he hadn’t even taken off the leather jerkin of his Ranger gear.
The King heard the Steward softly singing to his son, words that seemed
to be of an Elvish sort as he drew nearer. Every once in a while,
Faramir would stop, point to the star-filled sky and murmur something to
Elboron in Westron, then continue his song.
“The Lay of the Stars?” Aragorn finally asked
as he approached the two, feeling somewhat as though he was intruding.
“I’m certain the pronunciation is quite base
to your ears. My lord, I thought you asleep,” Faramir said in greeting.
Aragorn gave a shrug, indicating that it was
unimportant. “How fared your company?”
“Well,” Faramir replied, “the Orcs were routed
easily. Legolas’ archers were of great help and we lost not one man.”
He was interrupted when his son began to fiddle with the ends of the ties
of his jerkin. It began to come unlaced and Faramir had to push Elboron’s
tiny hands aside. “I trust my son has not been such a sneak as this
the whole time I was away.”
Aragorn gave a chuckle and they began to stroll
the citadel, finally ending up by the fountain beneath the White Tree.
“Nay, Eowyn would not let him. She is far more controlling than you,
my friend. Indeed, she remarked several times that you spoil him
far too much.”
“There is no such thing as showing a child
too much love.” Faramir gave a slight laugh of his own and sat down
on the edge of the fountain, settling Elboron on one knee. The child’s
hands were still curled around the laces of his jerkin and when they were
pulled away, the laces came along with them. Faramir worked to untangle
the two. “Elboron, your father needs those.”
“He is into everything, these days!” Aragorn
commented, down next to Faramir. “I fear for my sanity when Eldarion
reaches such a stage. When I hold him, I find that I do not wish
to let him go. But it would hardly do for an infant to pull the King’s
crown off his head in front of the Lords.”
“Indeed, it might be taken as a sign of a
coup!” Faramir said around a laugh. Elboron had grown bored of the
laces of Faramir’s jerkin and now squirmed to be let down to the ground.
Faramir obliged and the toddler stood on his own, holding on to Faramir’s
hands for balance.
Aragorn took another moment to watch the two
of them. He noted that Faramir seemed wholly unable to take his eyes
off his son. Aragorn couldn’t blame him.
“Ai! Such a wonder, children!
Are they not?” the King mused.
“Aye, my lord. Ever changing, ever growing,
never seeing the evils of the world. There is joy to be seen in them
and nothing else.”
“Just so.” Aragorn paused for a long
moment and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder at the world we will leave
them. Faramir, do I make proper choices? Will I leave naught
but a mess for my son to clean up?”
“That is not for us to decide, my lord.
Our tasks are in the here and now. All we have to decide is what
to do with the time that is given to us. Let your son decide what
to do with that which is given to him.”
“You speak as Gandalf might have.”
“A compliment. Thank you.”
“Still, I speak not only as a king, in this.
I will never know if Eldarion will have the strength to walk on his own,
without me beside him.”
It was then that something miraculous happened.
Elboron, who had fixed his gaze on something on the horizon, suddenly let
go of Faramir’s hands. Wobbling slightly, he staggered forward slowly,
his hands reaching toward the stars in the sky. A moment later and
he was off and moving, taking step after step. Faramir came to his
feet in astonishment and chased after him. When Elboron finally lost
his footing and sat back down on the ground with a tiny thump, the Steward
scooped him up and held him in his arms once again. With a smile
to rival the sunrise, he looked back to Aragorn.
“Nay, my lord. You will know it sooner
than you think.”
*********
As always, reviews appreciated. And as always, not mine, is Tolkien's, just borrowing.
Laters! ^_^
Berz.