Home » Fiction

Aftershock (PG) Print

Written by Nerey Camille

19 October 2011 | 885 words

Pairings: Éowyn.
Rating: PG.
Summary: The War of the Ring has ended, but danger is ever-present, as Pippin, Merry, Gandalf, Aragorn, Faramir and Éowyn find out.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Tolkien. I make no money from this story.

Written for the challenge Seven Elements Put Together.

Notes: The desire to tackle a challenge came suddenly out of nowhere, probably because I was bored of struggling with my other works in progress, and so this took shape. It is intended as a gift for the archive’s seventh birthday. The story contains a ship, some bananas, a happy Éowyn, an angry Gandalf, a gift, a horse race and it is as short as I could make it. It is also book-true, I hope. The plot is set in Minas Tirith in the days after Aragorn became King, before the arrival of Arwen and their marriage. PG-rated for verbal threats and life-endangering situations. Any and all feedback will be appreciated and answered. And I don’t know how, but this story happens to have exactly 700 words, so there’s another reason for it being a birthday present.

“What exactly is this, do you think?” asked Pippin to Merry, as they both examined a great plate of unknown yellow fruits. The two hobbits were in the kitchens as usual, but they were alone for once.

“I have no idea, but I expect they’re from Harad or the Far East or whatever. They are sending embassies to Strider all day with all kinds of gifts in token of peace. I wouldn’t take a single one of them if I was him. Blackguards.” Merry had still at heart Théoden’s death.

“Oh, come on, I would have nothing against one of these, aren’t you hungry?” said Pippin, taking a banana, and before Merry could say something along the lines of Pippin getting in trouble for touching things that he knew nothing about, he had got a big bite, skin and all, into his mouth.

“Please come quick! Pippin is dying!”

Aragorn and Gandalf turned to see Merry Brandybuck running at them, face livid. They didn’t ask questions, but followed him directly, listening to what had happened along the way.

“He just bit at it and fell, choking desperately and getting all red,” cried Merry, even as Aragorn knelt by the unconscious Pippin. “Can you save him?”

“We need the antidote,” said Aragorn, “it will be in the embassy’s ship. I must stay by his side.”

Gandalf turned on his heels and ran out of the room, after giving Merry a terrible “We’ll settle up this matter later” sort of look. On his way to the stables he met Faramir and Éowyn preparing for a ride. They had never seen the old wizard so worried.

“Where is Shadowfax? Quick!”

“He’s in the fields, but –“

“Then either give me your horse or in the King’s name go to the Haradrim ship at the Harlond and ask them for an antidote to bananas!”

Faramir didn’t understand what this was about, but he knew an emergency when he saw one.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“We’ll go,” corrected Éowyn, already on her horse.

“Make haste, Pippin’s life depends on it.”

Faramir mounted his steed, and Éowyn looked at him, a grim smile on her lips.

“Let’s race there,” she said, and was gone before he could even turn to follow her.

The ship was already making sail south, but Faramir rang a clear horn and she came about. Then he pushed his horse into the water, and spoke with the captain, and received from his hands a small bottle which he gave Éowyn, for she was a better rider than him. Swifter than the wind she galloped back to the city, her hair blowing behind her like a standard of gold and light.

Later that evening, Pippin, feeling very faint, sat up in his bed to meet the unwavering gaze of the wizard.

“For your information, Peregrin Took,” said Gandalf the White, “Haradrim fruit is treated with a mixture that prevents birds –and hobbits– from eating it, unless properly cleaned and cooked. No harm has come to you, but that was more than you deserved. My labours are now finished and everything has turned out well. If you or your kinsman,” there he gave a stern look to Merry, “ever spoil these days of bliss again by threatening the peace of mind of everybody around you, I swear I will personally make sure that neither the Lord Faramir, nor the Lady Éowyn, nor anyone else is allowed to save such a troublesome nuisance as you.”

Pippin looked at Faramir, still soaked from the water of the Anduin; at Éowyn, whose clothes and features were covered in dust; at Aragorn, whose face looked slightly wearier and older than it had been that morning, despite his expression of relief and even of suppressed mirth; and he blushed and murmured an apology.

Only then did Éowyn grace Faramir again with the look of love and happiness that she had been withholding while Pippin’s life was in danger. The Steward looked at her dirt-stained, smiling face and forgot everything and everyone else.

“We need a bath,” she said, “and then you might want to think of a fitting reward.”

“What for?” he queried.

“I won the race.”

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/aftershock. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!

8 Comment(s)

Pippin, for heaven’s sake, buy organic produce – or at least, read the label.

Faramir is generally a good strategist, so I’ll think he let her win. After all, to him humouring his wife’s desires would usually be a higher priority than topping a competition, no?

December    Monday 2 July 2012, 5:08    #

Certainly, it would… but in this case, I think Éowyn could win without that :). Besides, who knows what she would do if she suspected Faramir was just letting her win…

Nice to have you here! How are you? :D

— Nerey Camille    Monday 2 July 2012, 14:29    #

She sure could, didn’t she just give herself an unfair start? ;p
I’m really good, enjoying the green grasses, the winter flowers, and the damn freezing rain, lols. And writing, of course… How are you, dear?

December    Monday 2 July 2012, 20:22    #

An unfair start! Come on, Pippin’s life was at stake! Come to think of it, I think for Faramir saving Pippin would be even more important than humouring his fiancée :).
Good to hear you are well, so am I (but I’ll tell you about it by mail).
Thanks for commenting by the way, it’s always a pleasure to receive feedback, as you well know!

— Nerey Camille    Monday 2 July 2012, 21:43    #

Fair point :) However, cantering down the twisting streets of the City at breakneck speed could very easily result in more than one broken neck, which would very much delay him indeed, so he could’ve simply been a bit more careful than her ;P
Although I do agree, she might’ve won indeed, given he’s much bigger and heavier than her, and that sort of thing does count when it comes to racing…

Faramir, look at your life, look at your choices.

Sorry. Couldn’t resist the temptation of the context ;P

Do write, I await (-:E

December    Wednesday 4 July 2012, 4:46    #

“Faramir, look at your life, look at your choices.”

What’s that about?

I’ve written :).

— Nerey Camille    Wednesday 4 July 2012, 15:26    #

That’s a reference to the Sassy Gay Friend. Just search him on utube, he’s Fabulous %D
Basically I was joking in the direction of Faramir getting emasculated before he’s even married. Although I don’t believe that would ever actually happen to him, nor that you intended to show it that way, the pairing generall does lend itself to such a line of thought, I feel, given they’re both a bit unconventional in terms of the traditional understanding of gender roles blah blah blah.

December    Thursday 5 July 2012, 1:53    #

I’ve looked it up, it’s funny! Thanks for enhancing my culture; I see what you mean. Though at first I thought that Faramir was the Sassy Gay Friend. Kind of. Actually, I think in this story Pippin needs a Sassy Gay Friend much more than Faramir. Or at least, everybody would want a Sassy Gay Friend to watch over Pippin so that they don’t have to get a heart attack/soaked/mud-stained/their neck broken for his troublesome sake.

— Nerey Camille    Saturday 7 July 2012, 19:58    #

Subscribe to comments | Get comments by email | View all recent comments


  Textile help

All fields except 'Web' are required. The 'submit' button will become active after you've clicked 'preview'.
Your email address will NOT be displayed publicly. It will only be sent to the author so she (he) can reply to your comment in private. If you want to keep track of comments on this article, you can subscribe to its comments feed.

About the Author

Nerey Camille

Welcome everybody!

Two things. First, all I have published here is at your disposal to enjoy, share, copy or modify freely. Just make sure to state where you took it from, and let me know you’re using it, because I’ll be thrilled to learn my work was worth your attention. Should you ever want to use it commercially or in some way not stated here, you’ll need specific permission.

And secondly, I do not write solely about Faramir, so if you’d like to see something else you’re welcome to visit my blog. There you’ll find some short stories, poems and quite a few more things, some of them in English, some in French or Spanish.

I hope you enjoy yourself reading and, as always, comments are very much appreciated.