Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. Don't sue.

Author's Note: This is Dúnë's Yule gift. It's short seler, and it doesn't really have a point, but well, it's Faramir. And he's all afraid and worried.

Summary: A shirebunny. The citizens of Minas Tirith are eager to celebrate their King's birthday—but how do they discover when it is?

It had been four days since the wedding. Faramir realized he was nothing less than an awful Steward. It had not until now occurred to him to wonder when his new King's birth date was, or even how old the Númenorean could be. Faramir was vainly trying to remember a time when he had been this ashamed. He had a terrifying suspicion that the date had passed sometime in the last few months since the War, and that the only reason Faramir had not heard about it was because Aragorn had not wanted to shame or embarrass his new steward.

But Faramir was shamed and embarrassed anyway; so much so, in fact, that he was less than eager to go search out the answer to his question. He held both the hobbits and elves in such high esteem that approaching them and openly declaring how worthless he truly was was not high on his list of things to do.

But on the off chance that his suspicions were incorrect and Aragorn's birthday had yet to pass, then Faramir thought he should do whatever he had to to find out the date and plan a large celebration to prove he was worthy of his position.

Faramir's only problem was whom to ask. In other words; which was the lesser of two evils?

So he went to see Legolas. Of all the elves, he was by far the most approachable and Faramir had spent the most time around him. He also knew that of all the Fellowship that had journeyed with Aragorn, he not only perhaps knew the man the best, but would be quite happy to assist Faramir with his problem.

Thankfully, Faramir was right. Without even a whisper of amusement, Legolas assured Faramir that not only had the date not passed since the War, but that the Steward had neigh on nine months in which to plan the festivities. He also seemed happy to inform Faramir that Aragorn was in fact eighty-eight years old, and that the last time the man had actually celebrated his birthday was probably when he turned fifty. Legolas politely implied that the new king was not overly fond of marking himself another year older.

All this ensured that Faramir walked away from the conversation with more problems than he had entered it with. The only difference was that he now had time on his side. And time would hopefully be enough to solve these new problems.

And solve them he had. A few months spent with Aragorn had given Faramir an astounding amount of insight into a man Faramir had figured he would never come to know. Aragorn seemed quite eager to discuss his problems and thoughts with his steward after the Fellowship and his family returned to their homes.

And out of it all, Faramir had decided that Aragorn would truly appreciate a celebration in honor of his birthday. However, Faramir had also decided that such a celebration should be kept small. Aragorn was plainly as uncomfortable at public functions and foreign banquets as Faramir was. He was very grateful his father had never honoured his younger son with an elaborate birthday party.

Of course, in this case, there were certain people who Aragorn would no doubt wish to have around him that could not come. But Legolas, newly returned to Minas Tirith at the beginning of the winter had come to Faramir before Faramir could go to him, and informed the Steward that the twin Elrondion, Aragorn's foster-brothers, would arrive in Gondor in plenty of time for whatever celebrations were planned.

Faramir breathed a sigh of relief at that piece of information. It would not be much of a celebration if none of the King's family (besides his wife), could attend.

Out of all of this, though, Faramir was aware that the councilors and lords were going to be less than pleased that Faramir had gone behind their backs and not informed the city of festivities regarding their new King's birthday. In the end, Faramir found himself caring very little. All of the lords and councilors had done their level best to grovel like starving dogs at Aragorn's feet. Faramir found the whole show a disgrace, for they had done the same thing for his father and gotten no rewards for such petty behavior. Denethor could not abide useless men, which was where his anger at Faramir stemmed from. But just like his father, Faramir could not stand them, and he knew Aragorn had even less patience. Aragorn would not welcome a public spectacle for his birthday, especially if it was planned by his advisors.

Faramir had planned a quiet dinner party in the family dining room. At least it had been intended as quiet, but Faramir had not counted on the fact that his King's foster-brothers were no better behaved than green soldiers. The Dorwinion wine that Legolas had produced from Valar knows where had been the first mistake. Letting the twins down an entire bottle before the first course was through had been the second. Faramir was not certain what the next mistake was, but he was fairly certain it was somehow his fault.

In the end, it was a decided blessing that such 'festivities' had not happened at a formal banquet. Even Aragorn could only take so much embarrassment.