Faramir Fiction Archive

Tales of the Telcontars (PG-13)

Written by Susana

19 September 2011 | 56124 words | Work in Progress

Title: Rites of Spring (for the Spring Challenge)
Series: Errands for Wizards/DH AU
Author: Susana
Feedback: Please use the form below
Warning: AU
Disclaimer: All characters and everything else belong to Tolkien.
Summary: Eldarion and Theodwyn know its spring in Gondor because…
Beta: None. Written quickly when the idea struck, so there may well be mistakes.
A/N: Set in about Fourth Age year 17.

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Rites of Spring

Elessar Telcontar did not govern his Kingdoms only from finely appointed stone rooms in their capitals, and mostly, his heir was glad for it.

Today, however, as the torrential spring rains continued, Eldarion Telcontar would have rather been in Minas Tirith, with his lovely betrothed lady and his mother and sisters. Stifling a sneeze, Eldarion looked with some renewed interest around the Poros Fort he and his father (and their guards and the army company they rode with) had just entered. The fort had only recently been completed, and had seen rather a lot of action, given the brigands active in the Mountains of Shadow across the border, and the smuggling that went on along the route of the Poros river that flowed into the Anduin and from there, into the sea.

However, most intriguing of all to Eldarion was that the fort flew not only the flag of Gondor, and the flag of Ithilien, but also Eldarion’s older brother’s personal standard. He’d be glad to see Faramir, but for the White Company to still be here rather than further north, meant they must have run into trouble.

Aragorn gave his damp offspring a fond look as they dismounted, before addressing the Captain of the regiment, “Ah, Captain Mardil. Your new home is looking well.”

“We’re rather pleased with it, my King. Seeing a lot of action, and holding up well.” The Captain reported proudly, but Eldarion could see he was a bit…worried, or…concerned, over something, as he led them towards the neat stone building.

“Good for you. We’ll be here over the next few days, and I’d love to hear more about it. Captain-General Galdoron and my son your Prince have both been happy with your progress here, and that of your men.” Aragorn praised.

The Captain relaxed slightly, then tensed again when his King asked, “Please ask Prince Faramir to attend on us at his earliest convenience. I would like to see him, and Captain Beregrond as well.”

“Um.” Captain Mardil paused, “Prince Faramir and Captain Beregrond went with some of my men, to assist a small company of traders from Taduin who were attacked in the mountains yesterday.”

Eldarion winced, and Aragorn repressed a sigh, saying resignedly. “In the mountains, over the border. Of course they did. Well, let’s get out of the rain, and then you can brief me on what my son and his company and your men have taken on. Perhaps we should send another company to support them.”

A new, but familiar and much-loved voice commented from a map covered table in the bright dining hall, “Ada said that when you said that I was to tell you, ‘kettle, pot,’ Daerada.” The Lady Theodwyn grinned at them, amusement in her gray eyes and a white sling around her left arm.

Eldarion grinned through his worry at his oldest niece, and Aragorn moved to carefully embrace Theodwyn. “Did he, now? My Adar wished for me more careful children, but I do suppose I deserve the ones I’ve got. What happened to you, guren?”

Theodwyn made a face, and Eldarion found his arms full of clean, muscular blond teenager, who smelled a bit of cleaning herbs. Hugging her back, he asked, “That bad, huh, Thea?”

“That stupid.” Theodwyn countered, “I thought I’d wear my sleeveless mailshirt, since it was so hot yesterday…Ada told me to change, we argued about it, and I said I would. He got busy sorting out some equipment problems, and I forgot. Then I took a slash from a bandit’s sword, when we rode out to cover the traders we could see riding hard for the border.”

Aragorn gently lifted his granddaughter’s chin, “Not a mistake you’ll make again, eh, daeriel-nin?”

Theodwyn shook her head sadly, “No, Daerada. Not again. Bad enough I’m stuck here, but I probably won’t be able to do much for several weeks, so I’ll miss the rest of our patrol, effectively. So far as being in the action is concerned, anyway. Ada said I can still ride with them, though.” Theodwyn added, hoping her grandfather wouldn’t countermand that.

“Hmm.” Aragorn replied thoughtfully, “We’ll see, Thea. And once we’re done here, I’ll take a look at your arm myself, and we’ll see if we can’t cut down on the time until you’re entirely fit again. Unless its paining you, in which case I’ll look at it now.”

Theodwyn shook her head, “Nay, the numbing salve is working. It’s just a twinge – the healer here is good, but he’s not you. I’d be glad to have you look at it, but you can finish with your duties first.”

Eldarion admired Theodwyn’s talent for gaining control over a situation, and turning an order into a request. Aragorn, from the smile he repressed, admired it too. But he just squeezed Thea’s uninjured arm, and turned to discuss men and material with Captain Mardil. Eldarion and Theodwyn mostly listened, asking a question or venturing a comment occasionally, mostly when Aragorn subtly indicated such would be welcome.

When the last light of day was slipping from the sky, three riders came in wearing Faramir’s colors. Theodwyn recognized them, “The youngest, and two transfers from the city guard.” She murmured quietly to Eldarion.

The three reported that the bandits had retreated into the mountains, and that Faramir had found a local who knew the area well, and had taken his companies in pursuit.

Eldarion exchanged a look with Theodwyn, “Your Ada’s in big trouble.” He said under his breath, as Aragorn gently but thoroughly interrogated the messengers, tension obvious in his powerful frame and kind face to those who knew him as well as his son and granddaughter.

“He’s Ada.” Theodwyn countered with a grin, “Would it be spring if he and Daerada weren’t arguing about something?”

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