Faramir Fiction Archive

Tales of the Telcontars (PG-13)

Written by Susana

19 September 2011 | 56124 words | Work in Progress

Title: An alligator for Yule
Series: Tales of the Ithilien Ranger; DH AU
Author: Susana
Feedback: Please use the form below
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Warning: AU.
Disclaimer: All characters and everything else recognizable belong to Tolkien.
Beta: None, please excuse the errors. Thanks to Kaylee and Beth for listening to some of the story ideas.
A/N: Faramir has recently been promoted to Captain of the Ithilien Rangers, and Boromir to Captain-General of Gondor. This would be in about T.A. 3009 or 3010.

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Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth blinked, and counted to ten. He was not a man accustomed to being shocked. He was the second most powerful man in Gondor, and he had ruled a Princedom while helping to raise four small children, and occasionally also two nephews. He had spent the first thirty some years of his life being trained by his own unique father, Adrahil. Shock was something Imrahil had thought himself practically immune to.

But one of his nephews had shocked him thoroughly, a moment ago. Imrahil stared at Boromir, now the Captain-General of the Armies of Gondor, and repeated, “You would like… an alligator, for Yule?”

“Preferably more than one. Perhaps several mature breeding pairs?” Boromir explained, still serious. Behind him, Captain the Lord Gendarion nodded, as if this was a normal, reasonable request.

From behind his nephew’s right shoulder, Captain the Lord Tavasond added, “Actually, crocodiles might be even better. Could we get several pairs of crocodiles as well?”

Imrahil counted to ten again. This was Boromir, his sunny, jocular nephew, who had taught Imrahil’s own children how to play pranks. But this was also the new Captain-General of Gondor’s armies, and technically, Imrahil’s superior on the field. Boromir, who had always surrounded himself with his friends when engaging in mischief, again surrounded by friends today. But these friends were clever, battle-proven warriors, and more prone to thinking subtly than was Boromir. Boromir, by himself, would tend to favor force over strategy… but Boromir was wise enough to rely on those he trusted to be subtle for him. And Boromir hardly ever trusted awry.

Still, Boromir was his nephew, as well as his Captain-General. And Gendan and Tavas were his children’s ages. Imrahil would ask, should ask. Boromir hadn’t stopped being his nephew just because he’d been promoted to Captain-General, after all. “This isn’t for some prank, is it, my young Captains?” He inquired sternly. “These are dangerous creatures, and not to be trifled with.”

“We are in most deadly earnest, Uncle. The creatures are intended for Gondor’s defense, not an ingenious joke.” Boromir assured him straight-faced, before chuckling. “Although, knowing me as you do, I can understand why you might ask.”

Imrahil relaxed. His nephew was new to his role, but unlike his father Denethor, apparently not offended by an honest question, even one which was arguably an insult from a technical inferior. Then the Prince smiled wryly back at his beloved nephew. “You’ve not done something to give me cause to doubt your maturity as a Captain in years, Brom.” He assured gently, “but alligators and crocodiles?”

“It may not work.” Boromir replied, keeping his voice light. “I’ll let you know how it turns out, if it does. But it is Gondor asking, not just your nephew.”

“Dol Amroth will do its best,” Imrahil promised, already wondering which unfortunate Captain he could task with acquiring the large, dangerous, unpleasant reptiles. Imrahil did not ask for more information, not because he wasn’t curious, but because he understood and respected his nephew’s… the new Captain-General’s, need for operational security. Imrahil also did not ask if Denethor knew of this request. He and his nephews feared that the ruler of Gondor, or someone close to him, was giving information to the enemy. They were careful, all of them, not to share too many “irrelevant details” with the Steward of Gondor. Imrahil supposed they were all proving to be Adrahil’s students. But enough of such matters, “And what would my nephew like for Yule, Boromir?” He jested gently, “a kraken, perhaps?”

“Eru, no.” Boromir denied, grinning. “Perhaps a large quantity of fine ale, or dancing girls, or..”

Hours later, after Imrahil had departed, and several other Lords of Gondor also come and gone from Boromir’s new office in the Citadel, Tavas grinned wearily at his Captain-General and good friend. “None of your other Captains have ever asked you to procure large, man-eating reptiles.” He needled in a friendly manner, knowing that Boromir was as defensive of Faramir as the day was long, and would not appreciate the implication that there was favoritism involved. But the thought of any other Captain of Gondor convincing the Captain-General to go ask Dol Amroth for alligators… well, it was funny, to say the least.

Gendan chuckled, holding up a hand to forestall the argument between his more hot-headed friends. “Faramir always has to be different,” commented the peace-keeper amongst their group, “But wait until you see the marsh he, my cousin, and the other rangers have created, Tavas. Its truly impressive, and alligators and crocodiles will make it even more hazardous to an enemy army, particularly once Radagast and Faramir have had a chance to talk to the great lizards.”

“I’d do the same for any of my captains, if they had a viable plan, no matter how strange.” Boromir chided Tavasond lightly, stretching, “Its not just that I’ve a soft-spot for my baby-brother. Besides, his successes in Ithilien speak for themselves, to anyone who cares to listen.”

Gendan and Tavas nodded, but were otherwise quiet, helping their friend to reorder his maps and notes before departing for a night of drinking and revelry. Nothing needed to be said, between the three friends. Denethor was not listening. Alligators and crocodiles might listen to Faramir, but not his own father.

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