Faramir Fiction Archive

Human King, Elven King and one Stubborn Steward

Written by KC

05 November 2004 | 20383 words

Part 2

The Steward of Gondor, arse still throbbing painfully, made his way to the private garden that was only accessible from the wing that contained the King and Steward’s apartments. Faramir’s mother, Finduilas, had created the garden. It was one of the few places in Minas Tirith where Faramir sought solitude. The tower and library, the Steward’s other haunts, were precluded as both venues involved sitting, something the young Steward did not wish to do any time soon. Faramir walked around the garden, albeit not with his usual almost elven grace, in quietude. The Steward felt closest to his mother in this garden. It was almost as if some of her essence had infused into the very trees and plants. Faramir remembered little of his mother - just scents and touches.

“Mae govannen, mellon-nin,” a musical elven voice greeted. Legolas was sitting cross-legged on a bench under the tallest of the trees that graced the garden. The same tree that Legolas had sought recently, in an attempt to escape an angry Gandalf. “Come, sit,” Legolas invited, indicating the space beside him.

“Ah…I think I would like to stand…” Faramir stammered, blushing to the tips of his ears. Given the young Steward’s fair complexion, this proved rather spectacular. Legolas looked at his friend intently. Under the elf’s unwavering scrutiny, Faramir blushed ever more fiercely.

“Ai, mellon-nin!” Legolas exclaimed as he recognised the young human’s rather pained movement and Faramir’s unwillingness to meet his eyes. “What have you done now?” Legolas queried in a quiet, exasperated tone.

Faramir sighed.

“The King caught me working at my desk last evening and registered his displeasure, most forcefully,” Faramir replied, hoping the old adage about confession being good for the soul was true, as he walked towards the elf and leaned against the trunk of the tree. “I had also forgot to eat, the evidence of which, was still on my desk,” Faramir concluded self-condemning.

Legolas’ eyes took on a distant look for a moment and then he laughed in delighted amusement.

“I am so pleased that my pained situation provides such amusement,” Faramir responded petulantly.

“I am sorry, mellon-nin,” Legolas apologised though still chuckling merrily. “It is just that this tree wants to know why her ‘elfling’ is walking so strangely, Legolas explained whilst trying to contain his mirth.

The young Steward stood stunned. Wide-eyed, Faramir looked at Legolas then up into the tree and back to Legolas again - trying to comprehend what the elf had just said. Comprehension finally dawned and Faramir groaned, chagrined.

“Wonderful, just wonderful,” Faramir said quietly, blushing again and shaking his head. “Even the very trees are party to my embarrassment.”

Legolas laughed heartily.

“You are a rare man, mellon-nin,” the elf said as his laughter calmed to chuckles. “You should feel honoured. It is not often that a human finds favour with a tree and less so again, to be adopted by one. For you are hers, mellon-nin…according to her that is.”

Faramir chuckled in shy embarrassment.

“I suppose she has been my confidante over the years,” Faramir reflected, patting the trunk of the tree affectionately as he remembered the number of times he had cried or fumed beneath this very tree.

“She does not like to see you in pain,” Legolas said with the same distant look in his eyes, hearing the tree’s concern.

“Then I feel sorry for her,” Faramir sighed. “For she has seen little else from me. How I wish to be away from this city,” Faramir railed softly. “I have very few fond memories of Minas Tirith, my friend, and my thoughts of late turn ever bleaker. How I long for the forests of Ithilien and freedom.”

Legolas rose from the bench and put a hand on Faramir’s shoulder and tightened his grip in support.

“I can see why she thinks you are an ‘elfling’, mellon-nin,” Legolas said as he smiled at Faramir. The young Steward returned the smile shyly, in thanks.

---

A short time later Faramir and Legolas were summoned to meet with Aragorn in the King’s private study, adjoining the throne room. Aragorn greeted the pair and invited them both to take a seat in one of the chairs around the fireplace. Faramir glared at the King and Legolas laughed prompting the Steward to turn his glare on the elf, causing Legolas to laugh even harder. Faramir’s eyes turned heavenward for a moment and he sighed in resignation.

“I would prefer to stand, Sire,” Faramir said with as much dignity as he could muster as he leaned against one of the high backed chairs.

“As you wish my Steward,” Aragorn said with just the hint of a smile. “I know the both of you have discussed the creation of a haven in the forests of Ithilien for the elves who wish to remain, for a time, in Middle Earth,” Aragorn began without preamble. “I would like the two of you, representing Gondor, to travel to Mirkwood and negotiate agreement to the creation of the haven with King Thranduil.”

Legolas and Faramir shared a glance and both smiling broadly, silently reached agreement.

“When do we go?” Legolas asked, his enthusiasm showing.

“Within the week,” Aragorn replied, smiling at the twin looks of excitement on the two young Princes. “Prince Imrahil will be arriving in two days to attend the council meeting. I will be asking him to stay a for a few weeks to govern Gondor, as Gandalf and I will be accompanying the two of you as far as Ithilien, to look at the site you have chosen for the haven.”

---

Preparations were made, horses were made ready, farewells were exchanged and the party of four got underway within the week. Aragorn noted with sadness that Faramir’s spirit lifted further with every additional mile that was put between the young Steward and Minas Tirith. Aragorn realised that the Faramir he was seeing now was one that only Boromir and the Ithilien Rangers ever got to see. Aragorn also realised that he would have to help his Steward heal of his aversion to the White City, as he would like to see this lighter, more carefree Faramir in Minas Tirith.

The four riders reached the proposed site for the haven on the ninth day. Aragorn could see immediately why the site was chosen. The area was beautiful to the sight, undulating hills with trees as far as the eyes could see and a river meandering through the hills. This place would indeed be a haven for the elves, Aragorn thought. The day was very warm so the four decided to stop for lunch beside a pond, under the shade of some trees.

Aragorn settled under a tree and took a few moments to relax. Gandalf had gone back to where they had tied the horses to retrieve his pipe and leaf. Legolas was standing by the pond looking out over the scenery. His Steward, to Aragorn’s astonishment, was stalking Legolas. Faramir, with a look of unbridled mischief, motioned to Aragorn to create a diversion. Aragorn called out to Legolas who turned and was immediately blind-sided by Faramir and knocked into the pond. Legolas came up spluttering, indignant, and to Aragorn, looking like a wet cat. Faramir was laughing, the same light and musical laughter that Aragorn had heard when Legolas recounted the story of the wasps. Retribution was swift and Faramir found himself in the pond as well. Aragorn laughed at the antics of the two princes. Gandalf who had arrived back with his pipe and leaf, looked at the young human and elf wrestling in the pond and raised a questioning eyebrow to Aragorn.

“The children are playing,” was all that Aragorn said as he continued to watch the pair in amusement.

Four days later the company parted. Farewells made, Aragorn and Gandalf turned back to Minas Tirith and Faramir and Legolas continued onto Mirkwood. Aragorn turned again to watch the young princes leave.

“Why do I have such a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if I have let something loose on Middle Earth for which it is not quite prepared?” The King asked the wizard, shuddering as he continued to watch the two departing figures.

“That is because you just may well have, my friend,” Gandalf said sagely.

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