Faramir Fiction Archive

Fairborn (PG)

Written by Paul Price

26 August 2011 | 24652 words

Title: Fairborn
Author: Paul Price
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Faramir

This is a sixteen chapter short novel detailing curious events and various adventures in the twentieth year of Faramir and Eowyn’s marriage. The adventures and events concern them, their children, their friends, the countries of Gondor, Rohan, Dunland, and Harad, and enemies they did not know they had.

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Chapter 9: Arriving at Dol Amroth

Five and a half days after their adventure in the woods, the foursome arrived at the border of Dol Amroth. From then, the pace of life was frenetic for the next three weeks. Éowyn found that some of her students and even some of her teachers had come to Dol Amroth to help with the injured. Éowyn and the other healers were busy for many days before they began to see the success of their hard work. Meanwhile, Ganwyn and Bergrond were constantly at her side; Ganwyn as an aide and student, and Bergrond as a bodyguard and laborer. Additionally, Anbor disappeared each day, and re-appeared each evening. He said he was scouting, and assessing the damage. “I’ve no gifts for ‘ealin’.” He explained.

At the end of the first week, Anbor reported that the militia and craftsmen had made much progress in repairing many of the damaged cottages, piers, and houses, and were beginning to work on the larger structures, such as the fortress of Dol Amroth. He also stated that he had seen two childhood playmates of his. He did not think this was good.

“I never met two crueler kids.” He stated.

“Who were they?” Asked Bergrond.

“They was a pair of twins, a brother and sister.” He said, “Saruman was takin’ care of ‘em for their father, if you can believe anyone trustin’ ‘im to raise their kids. Course, maybe their father ‘ad no choice, maybe the kids was ‘ostages.”

“Saruman!” Exclaimed Éowyn, “Where were you raised?”

“Isengard. Where else would a ‘alf-orc be raised?”

“You’re a half-orc?”

“Yeah.” His statement astounded Éowyn, Bergrond, and Ganwyn.

“How did you get to be a ranger?” Bergrond asked.

“I passed the trials like ever’ ranger ‘as ta.”

“No, I mean why did you want to become a ranger, if you are a half-orc?”

“I don’t rightly know. It just seemed like the right thin’ ta do. I’d been surrounded by rage, cruelty, violence, and death all of my life, and it all didn’t seem ta make no sense. I wanted somethin’ different for my life, so I moved ta Ithilien, and, in time, took the ranger trials. I found I was good at tailin’ and scoutin’.”

“Wasn’t it difficult for a half-orc in Ithilien after the war?” Asked Éowyn.

“Sure, but not as difficult as in Isengard. Some folks bein’ rude to ya and occasionally beatin’ ya is not as bad as everyone bein’ rude to ya and beatin’ ya most of the time. Once I joined the rangers though I got respect from most folks in Ithilien. Now, most folks don’t even know what a ‘alf-orc looks like, so they don’t know I’m one. There ain’t many of us around no more.”

“How old are you?” Asked Ganwyn. Her usually silent demeanor had been overwhelmed by her curiosity about this strange man.

“About thirty-five.”

“But you look much older.”

“Thirty-five ‘d be ancient for an orc, but I’m only ‘alf orc. Guess I age faster’n most folk, but not as fast as orcs.”

“I thought orcs had long life spans?” Asked Éowyn.

“None that I lived with.”

“Were you in Isengard when the ents attacked it?” Asked Éowyn.

“No. Some of us saw ‘em comin’ and got out. Most stayed ‘cause they thought Saruman could stop ‘em, but he couldn’t. The twins was with those of us who left. Their father was to arrive later that day, and they wanted no part of ‘im, as ‘e was prone ta beatin’ ‘em. So they left. We all lived with an orc band in the mountains for several years, ‘til I couldn’t stand it no more, and left for Ithilien.”

“Did you ever see the twins’ father?” Asked Éowyn suddenly.

“Sure. ‘e was a ruddy, pudgy man with puffy lizard-like eyes, but unlike most Rohirrim had brownish hair.”

“You’re sure he was from Rohan?”

“Sure, ‘e wore the livery of the King’s household, I was told.”

“Gríma Wormtongue!”

“His son referred to ‘imself often as the son of Gríma, but I never ‘eard the name Wormtongue. Gríma’s son said ‘is father would be King of Rohan after the King and King’s nephew died, and ‘is father married some royal lady.”

“I was that royal lady. We called him “Wormtongue” as we did not trust him. You bring back many painful memories. None of us knew Gríma had children or that they lived with Saruman. How old are these twins?”

“About my age.”

“What can you tell me of them?”

“Not much. ‘aven’t seen ‘em since I left the orcs lair, ‘til the other day.”

“What do you know about them at Isengard?”

“They spent some time with Saruman, which few folks did. Some said ‘e was teachin’ ‘em magic, but others said ‘e didn’t trust nobody enough ta do that. The orcs treated ‘em like royalty after we left Isengard. I seldom saw ‘em in the orcs lair.”

“Could you find them again? I want to talk to them.”

“I’ll look for ‘em. They was wearin’ brown cloaks when I saw ‘em before.”

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