It was, Faramir determined, going to be one of those days
that dragged on in slow debris laden waves until it finally spent itself
in uselessness. Each and every task that had befallen him had taken
twice as long as it should have and had only been accomplished after
great amounts of stupidity had been evidenced by all involved.
“You look exhausted, Faramir. Are you not feeling well?”
Aragorn asked, the healer’s concern obvious in his voice. Faramir
shook his head, letting the door close behind him. As was becoming their
habit he joined his King before dinner to discuss how things progressed
in the rebuilding of Minas Tirith and if anything had befallen either
of them that needed to be known by the other.
“I have come to the conclusion that the people of Gondor
have been far too isolated and the resultant inbreeding has left the
entire city devoid of anything that might once have been termed intelligence.”
Faramir replied before he realized he had spoken out loud. It was, in
a small childish way no doubt, almost worth the flush of embarrassment
he could feel cross his skin to see his king choke on the swallow of
wine he had just taken.
Aragorn tried unsuccessfully to glare at his Steward but
then seemed to decide the cause was lost and only laughed. “Then
you will be glad to know there is a contingent of Rangers from Arnor
who will be arriving within the next ten days. Perhaps they can offer
the city some... freshness to the bloodlines.”
Despite his lingering embarrassment Faramir smiled. “Well–
I would be far happier to hear of a contingent from Rohan arriving but
I will do my best to welcome our Northern kindred to the city.”
He sighed as he took the seat Aragorn gestured him into. “If I
can find anyone in the city with sense enough to know if we have rooms
available.”
“I take it your day was...full of disappointments?”
Aragorn only smiled at him as he poured him a goblet of wine.
“I passed disappointment sometime just after breakfast
I think.” Faramir took the goblet with a nod of thanks. Then he
shook himself a bit. “I am sorry my liege, surely you do not need
to hear me complain of such trivialities. It was nothing that could
not be managed, only drudgery. Did anything of import happen in the
council meeting? I was detained by an– incident with the workmen
on level six.”
Aragorn raised one eyebrow in silent query but did not press
him for details of the incident. For which Faramir was glad. He had
no real idea how to describe the insanity of finding out that the crew
had, in the rebuilding of one of the great houses of Gondor’s
elite families, come across a great trove of what could only be described
as...toys of very adult diversions and proceeded to make a great production
of offering them to any unwary women and not a few men who happened
by.
“Nothing of import has happened at a council meeting
in three weeks. I think I shall have Gimli carve a statue of myself
and set it upon the throne and see if anyone notices I am not bothering
to answer.”
That made Faramir smile. “Likely you could put Gimli
himself in your robes and they would not notice. They spend too much
time arguing amongst themselves.”
“I think you are right.” Aragorn chuckled. Then
a sudden light seemed to fill the man’s grey eyes, a light which
reminded Faramir very forcibly of Boromir at his brother’s worst.
Faramir knew without a sliver of doubt that the man he admired and even
adored as his king was going to suggest something outrageous, perhaps
even risqué, although Faramir could not quite conceive of Elessar
doing the second.
“Tell me, Faramir, do you yet have in your possession
some of your clothes from your days as a ranger in Ithilien?”
“A few, yes my lord.” The feeling of dread in
Faramir’s stomach only grew worse.
“Good. Go and find them and leave off any emblem of
rank you can possibly avoid. Then meet me in the kitchen at the lower
root cellar door when you have changed into them. And bring your cloak.”
“But....” Faramir started to speak and then resigned
himself. If King Elessar wished him to be in disguise for some reason,
in disguise he would be. “It will me take me some time to dig
them out, my lord.”
“That is no bother, Faramir. It will take me a bit
to find what I seek as well.”
Faramir finished his wine and then rose to his feet. “Then
I will meet you there.”
“You are a good friend, Faramir of Gondor, to trust
me so implicitly on such an odd request.”
Faramir found a smile came easier than he expected. “Some
day my lord, I would enjoy telling you of some of the schemes Boromir
came up with.”
His king smiled back. “They are tales I look very much
look forward to hearing.”
Trying to concentrate on the joys of some of those escapades
and not the consequences, Faramir went to his rooms and found the garments
Aragorn had requested. It took little time to change from the Steward
of Gondor to a simple Ithilien ranger. And despite himself Faramir found
he enjoyed the change. Faramir of Ithilien was of a lighter step than
his more ranking counterpart. For good measure he pulled the bow and
quiver he had little time to practice with now and his old sword from
the chest where he now kept them and set them into place. He then pulled
the hood of his cloak up and went down to the kitchens with the stealth
he had mastered in the forests of Ithilien.
At first he thought the area in which he was supposed to
meet his King was empty but then a darker shadow detached itself from
the wall and stepped forward. And truly Faramir had to admit that if
he had not been expecting his King he would have not known the hooded
man who stood there. Only when the meager light caught the grey eyes
was there any real resemblance to Elessar of Gondor, even the way the
man moved was so very different from the formal grace Faramir had always
known Elessar to show.
“My lord–“ Faramir began and then stopped
himself at the scowl that got. “Ranger Strider I presume?”
He managed with a smile.
“Much better.” Aragorn’s voice was low
but full of amusement. “Strider, Estel, or any of a dozen other
names I would not mind. Even Aragorn once we are safe outside the castle
walls, but do leave Elessar and any titles behind us, shall we?”
“If that is your wish.” Faramir agreed. Aragorn
pushed the back door open and slipped out into the night. Two rangers
on an unknown task. And for just a moment the freedom was as heady as
good ale.
Aragorn led him down two of the city’s great levels
until they reached a tavern Faramir was certain he had never entered
though he had certainly passed it without notice. It was an older building,
comfortable but not quite as vivacious as those taverns he had visited
with Boromir before his brother had left for Rivendell
Then again, perhaps there was simply not as much vitality
in Minas Tirith these days. For while they had been victorious it was
a victory so very bitterly bought. Faramir did not know of a single
family in the whole of the City and surrounding lands who had not lost
at least one member to the war. Sometimes more. Sometimes all. His thoughts
strayed to Éowyn suddenly in far off Edoras as she no doubt struggled
to help her brother deal with so many of the same problems and losses
that he and Elessar faced here in Gondor every day.
“T’is the unspoken rule here, my friend. We must
leave the cares of the day at the door.” Aragorn’s low voice
interrupted his thoughts.
“I will do my best.” He offered and tried to
rein his thoughts in accordingly. Instead of picturing Éomer
and Éowyn toiling over issues of rebuilding food stores and finding
families for the many orphans of Rohan. He tried to picture the siblings
slipping out of the great hall Éowyn had described to him and finding
a tavern to share a drink in with any of the Rohirrim who happened to
be there. Éowyn at least had some skill at disguising herself amongst
her people.
“Now that is a better look. Keep your hood up, hmm?
Perhaps we can blend into the crowd un-noticed. If you will join me
in a drink, we can see what sort of merriment is occurring tonight.”
They found an area along the back wall and Faramir was almost
amused to note that people gave his king a wide breadth to pass through.
Strider it seemed struck many as a man not crossed lightly. Aragorn
caught the attention of one of the serving girls and she came back with
two pints of ale. He dropped her a copper coin, of what realm Faramir
could not determine, and she gave him a wide eyed stare and then flushed
and bit her lip and offered a few whispered comments that Faramir could
not quite make out. Aragorn only chuckled and patted her on the head
and shook his own. Her eyes, a bright blue he noticed, darted in his
direction and that only made Aragorn chuckle again and then send her
away.
Faramir had seen his brother in far too many similar conversations
to not understand the undertone of what had just occurred.
“I take it she thought you wanted to buy us more than
ale?” Aragorn gave him a surprised look and then nodded. “As
both our ladies are handy with swords I thought it best we decline.”
Faramir sighed and took a drink of his ale. It was perhaps
not completely fair to Éowyn to say that he had not minded the offer.
Aragorn at least had a wife to go home too. While the woman Faramir
very much desired to wed was far away in Rohan.
“You miss her.”
“With every breath.” Faramir answered quietly,
settling his hood more about his face to perhaps better hide his expressions
if the King read them so easily.
“Then I wish that the Rohirrim will return for the
body of King Théoden in as short a time as can be made so that
you may see her all the sooner.”
“Thank you.”
Faramir leant against the wall as he took another sip from
his ale. After a moment he realized that the noise of the place had
died down and a clear voice was singing. A young voice, but not a boy’s.
It held the notes true, although the song was not one that Faramir knew.
“He sings it well,” Aragorn said.
“Do you know it?”
“Sometimes I despaired they would ever stop singing
it.” Aragorn chuckled. “Hobbits.”
“Hobbits?” Faramir moved a bit so that he could
indeed see that it was Pippin who stood upon on of the tables his voice
raised in song. “He has a pleasant voice.”
“He does.” Aragorn agreed. “But he needs
more songs to use it with.”
“Hmm.” Faramir listened to the words, and wondered
despite himself what Boromir had thought of the song. He would have
to ask Pippin as it seemed his young friend was quite willing to speak
about Boromir at any given opportunity. Faramir was not yet ready to
ask his King what Aragorn remembered of the brother Faramir had loved.
“He told me that you had a good voice yourself.”
Aragorn’s low voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Pippin?” Had he talked to the hobbit about singing?
He did not recall it.
“Boromir.” Aragorn answered softly.
Wondering what trick of Numenorean magic Aragorn had used
to deduce that he was thinking about his brother Faramir only gave a
slight shrug. “I think he was– overly kind in his estimation
of my talent.”
“I will reserve judgement on that until I have heard
you sing,” Aragorn said with a smile. Faramir sighed but he smiled
a little as well at his brother’s mention and listened to Pippin
sing.
“Pardon me, my lords...but the old man there says he’d
be honored to have two such fine rangers join his table. I told him
I’d relay the the message.” A serving maid somewhat older
than the one to take their orders spoke, gesturing to a distant table
and Faramir followed her gesture with his eyes until he reached those
of Mithrandir.
“We are caught.” Aragorn sighed.
Faramir sighed himself but followed his king over to where
the wizard sat. “Mithrandir.” He greeted the wizard.
“Gandalf.” Aragorn gave the wizard a small nod.
“Join me, gentlemen. I am endeavoring to save seats
for the hobbits.”
“A noble goal no doubt.” Aragorn smiled.
“We are a long way from Bree are we not, Strider?”
Mithrandir chuckled.
“We are indeed my friend. Sit, Ranger. We may linger
in anonymity for a time yet, it seems.” Aragorn, Faramir noticed,
made certain to keep the hood of his cloak about his face as he sat
down so Faramir followed his example and did the same.
“I would like a chance to enjoy the music without disturbing
it.” Faramir agreed as he joined the two men at the table. Pippin
had been joined on the table by Merry and they were now singing about
drinking, something the tavern goers seemed to enjoy.
“We thought to escape the castle.”
“Always a wise thought.” Mithrandir smiled at
Faramir. “And how do you fare, my friend?”
“Well enough.” He smiled back. “I should
have thought to adopt a different name to join the table. Strider, Gandalf
and....”
“Arormir?” Aragorn offered.
Faramir considered the name. At first he thought Aragorn
had only taken the first letter of his own off but then he translated
the Quenyan and then ducked his head. “That is too extravagant
a name for me.” He looked over at his King, trying to read the
expression in the grey eyes but the shadow cast by his cloak hood were
too deep to make it possible. ’
“Why when it is true enough? You are of great wealth
to the city and to Gondor.” Aragorn returned. “Besides,
it is a disguise, my friend. So if no one expects you to bear it, least
of all you, then of course no one will assume that anyone bearing it
would be you.”
“I think you have spent too much time with the hobbits,
Strider. That strikes me fully of young Peregrin’s logic. Of which
I would add, he has none.”
“You do him a disservice.” Faramir frowned. “He
is a brave lad, who it seems, seeks only to please those he would gain
the respect of. Do not fault him so because he does not know how to
earn it. He fails only because he can not understand what tasks you
would see him achieve to earn your respect.”
Aragorn and the wizard exchanged a look he could not fathom
and he thought he should reclaim the words with an apology if not for
the fact that Pippin did indeed deserve better.
“It may be that you have seen more in the brief time
you have known him than I would imagine,” Aragorn said quietly.
“Or have you spoken of this with Pippin?”
“Whichever is the case I shall take your council to
heart.” Mithrandir gave him a nod. “It is a trait of the
house of Huinin to call me on such things I perceive. I recall Boromir
saying much the same to me once.”
“Boromir was ever fond of his little ones,” Aragorn
agreed. Faramir had to swallow back the urge to ask for more of what
his brother thought of the companions on his quest. It would not do
to bother them with questions that would only annoy. So he bided his
time, taking a swallow of his ale to give himself an extra moment to
think of something to say that would keep him on a safer path.
“Boromir was always kind to those in his care who were
younger or smaller than he was,” Faramir finally offered.
“Spoken like a true younger brother of a good man,”
Aragorn replied and then withdrew a pipe from his tunic. Without further
comment he packed it full of the pipeweed contained in the pouch at
his belt . Gandalf relit a stick he had obviously placed near the candle
on the table for just that reason and handed it to Aragorn without being
asked. The simple gesture spoke of long familiarity and made Faramir
acutely aware that he knew neither of them half so well. He took another
sip of his ale and turned back to listen to the hobbits sing.
After the drinking song finished Merry disappeared into the
crowd for a moment and then came back dragging an only slightly protesting
Frodo, with Samwise following them both looking more than a little protective
of his master. “You don’t have to be yanking us about now,
Master Merry. We’ll join you if Mr. Frodo wishes too.”
Aragorn chuckled. “If Frodo did not wish to, I think
Samwise would well fight off the entire tavern to ensure he did not.”
“We should all have such a dedicated friend,”
Gandalf sighed. Then the old wizard’s eyes lightened with a smile.
“And you cannot tell me that if you thought Frodo in need of any
aid you would not yet throw yourself between him and danger, Aragorn.
You care as much for young Frodo as Samwise does.”
Aragorn scowled at the wizard, that expression not truly
hidden in the shadows of his hood. “And you do not?”
“I never said that.” Gandalf’s smile gentled.
“It eases my heart a great deal to see him smile.”
“Yes. I think it eases all our hearts to see our burdened
friends find joy in the growing days of peace, “Aragorn returned
and then placed his pipe back in his mouth and drew a deep breath of
the fragrant smoke, before releasing it in a puff of breath that formed
a perfect ring. Faramir only watched the smoke ring for a moment and
then shook his head.
“A fine trick.”
“Practice and long hours of boredom,” Aragorn
returned.
Merry had gotten Frodo to the table and Faramir smiled at
the care with which all three of the other hobbits helped their friend
to his place beside Pippin. There was a whispered conversation between
the two curly heads.
“Sing us a song of the Shire, Frodo.” Merry requested.
“One of Bilbo’s maybe?”
“All right, if Pippin can remember the words.”
They set off into a happy song of the joys of hobbit life
and Faramir smiled at the antics that went with it. When the song ended
to great applause the four hobbits excused themselves and made their
way back to where he, Aragorn and Gandalf were sitting.
“Strider!” Merry called out with glee. “Look
who’s come to join us!”
“It can’t be Mr. Strider, Master Merry. He’s
doing important things I’m certain,” Samwise disagreed.
“Being about court and things of that nature now that he’s...”
“Shush!” Pippin clamped a hand over Samwise’s
mouth. “If Strider wants to join us I’m sure he’s
got a reason. Can we be of service...?”
“I do believe you may have indeed learned manners,
Peregrin Took.” Gandalf chuckled.
“It’s all that livery he’s been wearing
and the duty to Gondor and all of that. It’s addled his brain,”
Merry teased. “Don’t go bowing to Strider now. He’ll
dock our breakfasts.”
Aragorn chuckled. “I would not serve my friends so
poorly.”
“Since when?” Merry gave them a cheeky grin.
“You are full of sauce tonight, Meriadoc,” Gandalf
frowned.
“It’s Pippin’s birthday! We’re supposed
to be celebrating.” Frodo climbed up to sit beside the wizard.
“Are you going to introduce us to your friend, A....Strider?”
Frodo peered at him as if trying to determine who he was despite the
fact that Faramir sat with his back to the light and therefore knew
his face was mostly shadowed by his hood.
Aragorn smiled. “Well now. I would, certainly, but
my fellow Ranger is in as much disguise as I tonight and we have yet
to figure out a name you might recognize that would not give away his
presence.”
“Ooh! I know. I know!” Pippin exclaimed. “I’m
so glad you came!” Pippin ran about the table and Faramir found
himself with his arms full of a very pleased hobbit. “Now it’s
a great birthday.”
“I wish I’d known it was a special day for you,
Pippin. I would have brought you a gift.” Faramir chuckled. It
seemed his voice was enough to reveal him because the other hobbits
all smiled.
“You came, that’s the best of gifts. I hope Legolas
and Gimli come too. Then I’ll be really really happy. Instead
of only really happy.”
Faramir nodded as if that was an important distinction and
then settled Pippin to the bench next to him. “Happy Birthday
to you, Peregrin Took.”
“Thank you.” Pippin grinned, “Merry even
got the cook to make me a birthday cake.”
“Did he?” Aragorn looked from one of the hobbits
to another. “And should I bother to ask if there is any of this
cake left for me and my companion to sample?”
“I got it for breakfast.” Pippin explained in
a tone that indicated Strider should know better than to even ask the
question. “We had it done by elevensies.”
“Ah.”
“Hobbits.” Gandalf sighed.
“I don’t see how you eat so much and stay so
thin, Pippin. I would need new clothes in a week if I ate what you do
and I am twice your size.” Faramir was amazed at the sheer amounts
of food he had seen the four hobbits eat.
“Hobbits do enjoy their food, sir. I’m very glad
that Gondor has good food. I was afraid it would be like the elf food
or something. And I’d just as soon never eat another piece of
Elven bread in all my days,” Samwise said.
“And I am with you on that, Sam.” Frodo smiled.
“Although right now a nice piece of fried bread with apples would
be good.”
Faramir caught the attention of one of the servers. “My
friends would care to eat. Bring us...each a meal of whatever is best
tonight, and two deserts each for the hobbits if you would.”
“Certainly, Ranger.” She gave a grin at the four
hobbits. “And would you and your fellow men like anything or shall
I just feed the Halflings?”
That got laughter from all of them. “I think I would
take another ale. Strider? Mithrandir?”
“I am quite content,” Gandalf answered.
“I will follow my friend’s lead and have another
ale,” Aragorn replied. She nodded and Faramir took the time to
draw two silver pieces from his purse and hand them to her.
She looked at him in shock. “That would buy food for
a hundred hobbits!”
“It may purchase a drink for everyone here. We are
celebrating Master Pippin’s birthday today.”
“You have just endeared yourself to the whole tavern,
Ranger.” She grinned and then headed back to the kitchen.
“Thank you Fara...” Pippin bit off the rest of
his name. “Ooops.”
Faramir chuckled. “An honest slip, Pippin.”
“Fari!” Merry exclaimed suddenly and Faramir
glanced over at him in surprise. “That’s what Boromir called
you sometimes when he wasn’t paying attention.”
Faramir felt himself flush a bit. “Is it?”
“I liked it because I thought you big folk never shortened
your names like we hobbits do. He said it wasn’t a common thing
but he’d been doing it since you were small and it sort of was
a habit he couldn’t quite break himself of,” Merry went
on.
“And we told him we were glad to see that some big
folk have sense even if they don’t know it,” he paused for
a moment and then went on. “And that we’d teach him all
about proper ways of doing things if he’d listen.” Pippin
put in.
“It seemed only fair since he was teaching us how to
use the swords Strider gave us that we offer to teach him something
important as well,” Merry said firmly. Then he sighed, “He
didn’t listen very well though.”
“Shhh!” Pippin kicked his cousin under the table,
Faramir was certain, making Merry yelp.
“Well he didn’t.”
Faramir could not help but chuckle. “Never fear, Merry,
I shall take no offence at the slight to my dear brother. For while
I could list all his virtues without thought I am just as well acquainted
with his faults. Of which pure stubbornness was perhaps the greatest
of both.”
“How can something be a great fault and a great virtue?”
Pippin asked.
Faramir took a drink of his ale and considered the question,
especially in light of the fact that the entire table now seemed to
wait for his response.
“It depends much I suppose on the task to which you
bend that stubbornness, Pippin. When it is directed to such things as
the retaking of Osgiliath from the Orcs it is a good thing and a virtue.
When it is directed to such folly as staying awake three nights running
to prove you can it is certainly a fault because then what use are you
on the forth?”
Pippin seemed to consider that for a long moment. “So
it’s rather like my impetuousness then that Gandalf chides me
for? It is a fault when it leads me into danger and makes me look at
things I should not look at?” He gave the wizard a sheepish smile,
“But when it makes me jump into fire to save a friend it is not
so bad a trait to have?”
Faramir squeezed the young hobbit’s shoulder tightly.
“Of the latter I would say only, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Pippin said with a grin.
“You speak well, my friend, for many things that might
be considered ill in one situation can be considered fair in another.”
Aragorn gave him a nod. “I see that I shall annoy you now with
yet more work. For you have a good ear for turns of phrase and I will
want you to look over any proclamations I devise before I make them
and see how they might be better worded.”
Faramir only gave his king a slight nod, “Whatever
duty I can see to for you, I will fulfill with all the honor I possess.”
“I have never doubted that,” Aragorn returned.
“So what else have you been up to this birthday day Pippin, besides
eating cake?”
Pippin smiled. “Well, Sam worked with Legolas in the
garden and we helped a bit. You should come and see it! It’s turning
out something beautiful.”
“I will come by soon then.”
“And then we had a picnic lunch with Legolas and your
lady and a few of the other elves that are here.” Pippin went
on.
“Ah. Now I perceive why I was abandoned for the meal.
My lady is ever fond of eating outside.”
“Legolas tried to get Sam and Frodo to eat some of
the food he brought but they both made muttered comments about lembas
bread and wouldn’t try it. I did though and it wasn’t bad.
Not to offend the elves or anything, I’d rather have a nice piece
of salted pork, or a good roasted chicken with some vegetables than
some of the odd things they eat.”
“I do not think I have ever had Elven food, Pippin.
Is it very different?” Faramir asked.
“Never?” That was surprisingly enough from Samwise
who had been so very quiet up until then. “Here now, we can’t
have that. It wouldn’t be right us having had something that a
prince like yourself hasn’t had.” Sam bit his lip and Frodo
only gave his friend a smile.
“Peace, Samwise. I will see that Faramir gets the opportunity
to try Elven food as soon as possible,” Aragorn offered.
“And none of that traveling stuff either, Master Strider,
Sir. Not that it isn’t filling or anything and we’d have
all shriveled up to bags of bones without it to see us through, right
enough. But still, it wouldn’t be as good as what the Lady Galadriel
gave us in Lothlórien or Master Elrond gave us in Rivendell. Don’t
tell the lady, will you Master Strider, but I’d rather eat at
Rivendell again than Lothlórien.”
Aragorn chuckled. “It will be the well kept secret
of everyone at this table, Samwise.”
“Thank you.” Samwise did indeed look relieved.
The serving girls returned with several platters of food
which the hobbits took to with great delight. Then the one he had paid
turned to the room at large with a grin.
“Drinks for the house in honor of Master Pippin’s
birthday and a Ranger’s generosity!”
That got a huge cheer from the crowd and Faramir rolled his
eyes, but did not move wanting no more attention than what he had just
garnered.
“If there’s– anything else you’re
wanting tonight let me know.” She leaned over and whispered that
into his ear. Despite himself he smiled just a bit.
“What’d she say?” Merry asked.
“Only asked if there was anything else we needed,”
Faramir replied calmly.
“Oh! Is that what she meant?” Pippin looked at
him with a grin and Faramir gave his young friend a glare.
“Do not tease overmuch on your birthday, Pippin, or
I shall introduce you to a Gondorian tradition of allowing your friend’s
to swat you as many times as you are years old.”
“Gondorian’s have a lot of odd birthday traditions,
don’t they?” Frodo put in suddenly with a surprisingly teasing
grin. “I remember Boromir telling Merry about them when it was
Merry’s birthday on the road between Rivendell and Caradhras.”
“Oh you had to remind me of that.” Merry moaned
and then hid his face in his hands. All the others at the table laughed.
“May I inquire what tradition we are speaking of?”
Faramir asked after a moment.
“Well, Boromir said that in Gondor when a young man
had reached a certain age it was tradition for him to get a kiss from
the prettiest maid he knew. Which of course meant we had to figure out
who the prettiest girl Merry knew was. Her name is Estella by the way
and she’s Merry’s very distant cousin, fifth I think, once
removed. And so we were making plans to introduce this tradition to
the Shire when we got home.” Frodo went on.
“And then someone...” Merry glared at Pippin,
“Pointed out that who knew when that would be and there might
not be any pretty maids left when I got back to Buckland and seeing
it was a Gondorian tradition shouldn’t I get a kiss from a maid
of Gondor?”
“Well it does make a certain sense. There are several
pretty maids about our city, master Merry. No doubt any of them would
be pleased to give you a belated birthday kiss.”
“Yes and I wouldn’t mind it either. But somebody
seemed to think that I should have my kiss on my birthday.” Merry
glared even more at Pippin who only tried to look innocent and failed
rather spectacularly.“And we didn’t have any Gondorian maids
with us in the middle of nowhere between Rivendell and the mountains.”
Faramir looked about at his companions noting how very hard
Gandalf and Aragorn were trying not to laugh, the grin that covered
Frodo’s face, and the one Samwise was trying to hide in his mug.
“I see.” Somehow he could not doubt that Boromir had set
about this whole thing with the best of teasing intent and that it had
all gone horribly wrong. Humor had not been one of his dear brother’s
greatest virtues. “So I shall be brave and ask. What was the solution?”
“Well since we didn’t have any women from Gondor
with us. Someone thought I should get a kiss from the fairest Gondorian
we had handy.”
Pippin was shaking with silent laughter now. “Well,
I did at least give you a choice.” He managed around his giggles.
“Boromir and Aragorn is not a choice!”
That made all the hobbits save Merry laugh aloud.
“Why thank you, Merry.” Aragorn almost managed
to sound serious.
Merry rolled his eyes. “Well it wasn’t much of
a choice anyway. And you do have to admit, Strider, he was fairer than
you. No offence of course.”
“None taken.” Aragorn managed to nod but Faramir
could see the laughter he was barely keeping in check. Despite himself
he chuckled aloud.
“So did you get a kiss from my brother then, Merry?”
Faramir smiled. “Since it was his revelation of our traditions
that prompted the whole thing it seems fitting that he should have honored
it.”
Merry sighed. “Yes I did. I thought he was going to
argue for a bit but then he seemed to see how embarrassed and upset
I was at somebody’s teasing and so he said he would consider it
an honor and he just knelt down right there along the path and told
me he hoped I wasn’t offended and that all of them, meaning the
Fellowship I suppose, only wanted me to enjoy my birthday, and he gave
me a kiss. Which was very odd as I’ve never kissed one of the
big folk before and certainly no one with a beard!”
Pippin laughed all the harder and Faramir poked his young
friend. “Here now, it is hardly fair of you to laugh so at your
cousin’s ordeal. Just because you are fortunate to celebrate your
birthday where there are pretty maids about. I am glad Boromir did not
add to your embarrassment, Merry.”
“No, he was really nice about it. Since I’m certain
he wasn’t really wanting to kiss me either. He did give me a fine
compliment to go with it though.”
“Did he?” Faramir smiled.
“Yes. At least I think it was a compliment. Once he’d
done it, he smiled at me and ruffled my hair and said it was rather
like having to kiss his brother. So I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Faramir smiled a bit sadly. “Yes, well- no doubt he
wouldn’t have let me get away from such an incident without teasing
me much more about it,” he said with a chuckle. “Although
I think he might have indeed kissed me on my birthday when I was about
your size, Merry.”
“When you were my size you weren’t much more
than a baby!”
“Eleven or so,” Faramir said, and then took a
drink of his ale. “Mother had passed and so I had no one else
to kiss me on my birthday either.” He offered. Then he found a
smile. “So Pippin which of the ladies about do you wish to get
a kiss from, hmm? I’m certain none of them will mind.”
Pippin sighed. “I don’t know that I want one
at all now. Boromir said he’d kiss me on my birthday too, if we
were still traveling when it came around. And now even though I know
it’d be an excuse for Merry to tease me back I wish he could.”
“We all do, Pip.” Aragorn reached over and gripped
Pippin’s shoulder.
Merry gave a deep sigh and then looked over at his cousin.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad on your birthday, Pip.”
“Nor did I,” Faramir put in. “For I am
certain he would have kept his promise, even here, if you had only teased
him enough about it.”
“Do you think so?” Pippin brightened at the thought.
“Even in front of all the people?”
Faramir managed a smile. “Boromir was never–
reserved when it came to friends, Pippin. Likely he would have made
it a fine jest between friends for everyone to cheer at.”
“Then we all could have tackled him for your honor!”
Merry giggled. “Tackling Boromir was fun since he never expected
we could do it.”
“Tackling Aragorn was fun too since he didn’t
think we’d do it either.” Frodo pointed out.
“I was watching the road for enemies. It never crossed
my mind that I would be beset by a hoard of rampaging hobbits from within
my own ranks.” Aragorn frowned but then he chuckled. “It
was a well planed ambush, my friends.”
“Now that is a compliment,” Frodo decided.
“Come on now, Pip, you have to get a birthday kiss.
Otherwise you won’t have a good year.” Merry moved around
to sit beside his cousin. “The lady who brought us our food is
pretty.”
“She wants to kiss Faramir not me,” Pippin muttered.
Faramir chuckled. “Actually I think she wanted to kiss
Strider, but I was a reasonable second choice.”
Aragorn rolled his eyes, “Your lady is several leagues
away, Faramir. Mine is only moments and with my luck of late would come
looking for me at precisely that moment.”
“Besides who would want to kiss any other woman with
Lady Arwen around?” Merry smiled. “Maybe she’ll kiss
you for your birthday Pip. She is the prettiest lady in the whole city.”
“I shall take her your compliment, Master Meriadoc.”
Aragorn smiled.
“No, Arwen isn’t a Gondorian, except by marriage
of course, and it’s a Gondorian custom, so it has to be a Gondorian
lady. That was the stickling point at Merry’s birthday after all.”
Frodo put in.
“I don’t think I want one, really. It would make
me sad.” Pippin sighed.
“He would not want you to grieve so as to miss out
on a good year, Pip.” Faramir consoled his young friend as best
he could.
“No, probably not.” Pippin sighed. “It’s
just– well he promised you know? And now I–“
”I know,” Faramir squeezed his shoulder tightly.
“But we must find you someone in his stead, hmm?” He considered
the women he had seen and which one would be best suited to give Pippin
his birthday kiss.
“Hey!” Merry grinned suddenly. “I’ve
got it. Faramir can kiss you since Boromir isn’t here. That’s
fair right? I mean you’d be keeping your brother’s promise
to Pip and everything.” Merry’s grin got wider. “And
I can still tease him back!”
“Ah, now I see the true reason for your offer. It was
not to find an answer to your cousin’s sadness, but only to find
a way to tease him, really Meriadoc, Aragorn chided.
“Well– can we not just have my teasing him be
a sort of side benefit of finding an answer? Please?”
“I see I have no say in this?” Faramir sighed.
“Of course you do.” Pippin scowled at Merry.
“Don’t mind Merry. I think at some point when I wasn’t
watching, Treebeard must have dropped him on his head or something.”
Merry made a face at his cousin and Frodo without even seeming
to think about it reached over and swatted Merry on the back of the
head and kicked Pippin under the table. “You two have the manners
of drunken goblins. Really, Faramir, please do not judge all of the
Shire folk by these two.”
Faramir smiled just a bit. “But there is no finer standard
on which to judge, Master Baggins, than the four I see here with me.
For men I think could take great lessons from our little cousins. All
courage and bravery in battle, heartrending dedication to see the impossible
accomplished, loyalty without cease to a sworn master and yet still
the ability to laugh with and tease and annoy those we love once the
battles are done and peace come at long last to our land.” He
looked at the two hobbits beside him with a smile. “Since I can
not share in your delight at sharing these days of joy with those I
love most, Pippin, I will instead be quite proud to stand in my brother’s
stead.” He leaned down and caught Pip in a quick kiss. “Happy
Birthday.” His voice came out rougher than he expected, deeper,
with the echo of a another’s he had never heard himself utter.
Pippin blinked and then much to Faramir’s surprise
only hugged him with a great deal of strength for so small a frame.
“Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” He hugged the small yet
strong frame to his, thinking of the last time he had hugged Boromir.
Too short an embrace to satisfy all the rest of his life but all he
had to recall. “Now you will have a happy year. And so it is a
good birthday, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I suppose it is.” Pippin smiled, but there
were tears in the bright eyes. “Thank you again.”
“I shall agree with Boromir once more. T’is very
like kissing my brother.” He was surprised at the smile he felt
cross his face.
“Really?” That brightened Pippin’s eyes.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Comparing
me to Boromir I mean.”
“We are all guardians of Gondor, are we not?”
Faramir set Pippin to his side again. “Servants to throne and
warriors of the citadel?” He gave Aragorn a slight nod as he spoke.
“Am I still? A guard of the citadel I mean? Can you
be a guard of the citadel once you’re cast out of service?”
Pippin looked from him to Aragorn and then to Gandalf.
“What’s this? You didn’t tell us you got
kicked out.” Merry exclaimed.
“Pippin, whatever did you do?” Frodo asked at
the same moment.
Pippin looked down at his ale. “Well...” He glanced
back up at Faramir. “I tried to save a friend. And so he told
me I wasn’t to bother him anymore and that he released me from
his service.” Pippin scowled. “And I didn’t appreciate
being tossed about like a bag of apples either.”
“Madness makes all manner of men to things that they
would never do otherwise, Pippin.” Aragorn spoke softly. “It
is hard, I know, but you must not take what was said to your heart.”
“It isn’t that I really minded not being in his
service anymore...but...I don’t want to not be in yours!”
He looked from Aragorn back to Faramir who was still trying to accept
what Pippin had said . “Can I still be in the service of the Steward,
Faramir? Please?”
“I know of no other’s service I would rather
have, Master Peregrin. But it is no longer the Stewards who you must
swear service to.” He smiled. “Although I do not think you
will be turned away if you were to swear allegiance to King Elessar.
He is– as are we all in Minas Tirith I think, fond of Hobbits.”
“All right then.” Pippin’s eyes lit up
and he hopped off the bench and ran around to Aragorn. “Please?”
“I am found out, am I? Very well, Master Took.”
Faramir smiled as Aragorn sat up straight and by only setting
aside his pipe and shaking the hood of his dark cloak from his head
let go the Ranger and became the King of Gondor.
Pippin drew the sword that Faramir had given him and held
it out in both hands for Aragorn to take in his. And though it might
have been comical the great difference in their sizes it was not. “Here
do I, Peregrine son of Paladin, swear allegiance and fealty to Gondor,
in peace or war, in living or dying, from this moment henceforth, until
my lord release me or death take me.”
“And I accept.” Elessar smiled, and handed the
blade back. “Take back thy sword Peregrin, son of Paladin. And
I will honor what has been given. Fealty with thanks, loyalty with honor,
disloyalty with justice.”
“Oh that’s much better than the last time.”
Pippin grinned. “Thank you, Sire.”
“You are most welcome.”
“Just don’t send Faramir away on something horrible,
all right?”
Aragorn raised one eyebrow at that but Faramir was very glad
he did not ask anything further.
“You can not go making demands of the King when you
have just now sworn allegiance to him, Pippin.” Faramir gave his
young friend as teasing a glare as he knew how as he spoke. “You
must learn to follow orders.”
“Orders are fine and good, Faramir. When they make
sense. And I’m certain all of Aragorn’s orders make sense.
To one of the Big Folk, anyway. But I don’t know that I can stop
asking why it is I’m expected to do something if it doesn’t
make sense to me. So I’m likely to get in a lot of trouble. You
will set me right it about it, won’t you?”
Despite himself Faramir sighed. “It may indeed be beyond
my skill, Pippin, but I shall endeavor to do so.”
“There now, you see I need not send Faramir away on
something horrible, you have arranged it for me.” Aragorn chuckled.
“For I can certainly foresee no other duty in my kingdom more
arduous than keeping Peregrin Took out of trouble.”
“It’s a lot easier to fight orcs,” Merry
told him in what appeared to be utter seriousness.
“And cave trolls.” That was from Gandalf.
“And Urak-Hai.” Came from Frodo.
“Well– it might be easier than facing down the
Nazgûl, Master Faramir, sir. But I wouldn’t count on it.”
Sam offered finally.
“I see.” He could not help but smile. “We
are well met then, Master Pippin, for I shall tell you in all honesty,
Boromir had much the same task with me when I first came to service.”
“Did he really?” Pippin grinned and then picked
up his tankard in both hands and tapped it against Faramir’s.
“To Gondor.”
“To Gondor indeed, Master Peregrin.” He toasted,
tapping his tankard back against Pippin’s.
“And fellowship,” Merry offered.
“And fellowship,” Frodo agreed.
“To Gondor, and fellowship, and many more years of
happiness to both.” Aragorn raised his tankard with a smile.
“It appears we are almost too late!” Gimli’s
voice came from behind him. “Give me that, if you don’t
mind. And take this.”
Faramir turned to look over his shoulder as Gimli took a
tankard from a serving girl and then a cup which he passed to Legolas.
“Right. To Gondor and fellowship!”
“And happiness,” Legolas reminded the dwarf with
a smile.
It took a bit of maneuvering but all nine tankards and cups
were brought together over the table.
“Remember today.” The words came a sudden sharp
call in his mind.
Faramir smiled and offered as quietly as he could. “Today,
life is good.”
And it was.
