Title: Hope is Kindled
Summary: A company of Lorien Elves seeks passage through Ithilien. Does the alliance between Elves and Men still stand? Faramir must decide. Takes place pre-LOTR in the Third Age 3013.
Pairings: None. There will be much interaction between male and female characters in this story, but the strongest relationship that develops, is a friendship.
Rating: K+ for some mild action/adventure violence.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Tolkien's masterpiece.
Author's Note: Hello all! This is my first ever Faramir-centric fic. It is completed and only three chapters long. I will update regularly and post the next two chapters every few days. As this is my first venture into the realm of Gondor, I would ask that any mistakes on my part be kindly corrected. Constructive criticism in any form is greatly appreciated. I do not have a beta for this fic, though I have revised it several times. Even so, I am sure my weary eyes have not caught every mistake, so my apologies. And lastly, reviews would really make my Christmas merry! I hope you enjoy!
Chapter One
The cries of dying Orcs poisoned Ithilien on a chilled afternoon. Faramir of Gondor slipped from his perch amongst the trees and cut down the last foe with the blade of his sword. The enemy had come upon them quickly, too quickly for his comfort. Darting between the ruins of an older kingdom, the creatures snarled and threatened his Rangers with harsh curses.
Faramir at once wished he had not divided his force to scout the eastern end of Northern Ithilien. They were nearly outnumbered, nearly.
He wiped his stained blade upon the dead grass and sighed. Damrod, one of his lieutenants, slipped through the brush.
"We are fortunate, my lord," he said and lifted the thick arm of an Orc corpse with his boot.
"So I believe," Faramir replied. The rest of his Rangers emerged from the trees and several dropped to the ground, exhausted. An early winter wind ravaged the forest. Faramir glanced at the crumpled body of an Orc. A strange arrow protruded from its throat. "What is this?"
"My lord?" Damrod followed his gaze.
"This is not of Gondor." Faramir touched the feather tip of the arrow. The shaft was smooth and well crafted, but of a wood he did not know. Silver was its color. "I do not know this."
Worry clenched his gut. Only his Rangers stood about and Ithilien was silent. No dim shadows coursed through the branches.
"Do you recognize the arrow?" Faramir asked Damrod in an undertone. The man shook his head.
"No, my lord. It is not Orcish or of the Haradrim."
"Then-
"Captain!" The cry sprang from the throat of one of the Rangers and Faramir spun around to see the Orc shift and rise. But a second arrow of the same make spilt the creature's skull and the trees shivered. The Orc fell dead.
"Fool!" A voice spoke from the brush. "They know of us now."
The Rangers bent their bows and Faramir glanced at Damrod.
"They speak Sindarin."
"Elves always do," a second, deeper voice replied and grey figures crept into the glen.
Faramir curled his fingers about the hilt of his blade. He had not seen them nor had he heard them. And that was a truly frightening notion. "Show yourselves!"
One by one the figures cast back their silver hoods and gold braids glinted in the sun. Tall beings they were and high cheekbones sculpted their fair faces.
"Peace, Gondorian." The tallest of them spoke and his eyes were stern, yet kind. "I am Haldir of Lorien and my company seeks to pass through your woods."
"Spies?" Damrod whispered in Faramir's ear and he pulled taut his bowstring.
"They are too fair," Faramir replied.
"All that is evil is not foul," Damrod said.
"There is no evil in these beings." Faramir took a step forward and addressed Haldir. "I am Faramir, Captain of the Ithilien Rangers. You pass through this wood without my leave. Such a liberty is punishable by death."
"And you would be mad to do so," another Elf said, a female who stood by Haldir's shoulder. She had a small, worried face.
"Is the world so changed that a peaceful meeting between Elves and Men must turn hostile?" Haldir said. "Forgive our intrusion. We meant not to startle you. My company passes through this land only to return to our own. The sounds of your battle alerted me and I saw that you were outnumbered." He gestured at the Orc corpse and the elegant arrows.
"What brings a company of Elves so far from their wood?" Faramir asked. Damrod had slackened his grip on his bowstring, unable to hold it for so long.
"The business of our Lady."
"The Elf-witch." A Ranger muttered. Faramir saw a flash of annoyance pass over Haldir's face. The female Elf laughed.
"It is not wise to speak on things your eyes have never seen and your ears have seldom heard of," she said and turned to Haldir. "Let us leave this place."
Faramir raised his hand. "I have not given you my leave."
"Your numbers are few," Haldir said and Faramir saw his gaze roam over the gathered men.
"You threaten me?"
"Not at all, but I am glad to have met you here. The battle turned against you."
"And now you question me?" Faramir drew closer to the Elf who stood taller. He lifted his chin slightly to look into Haldir's eyes. "Peace, Elf of Lorien. I do not wish to be harsh with you. We men of Gondor have learned to guard our land with swiftness and great vigilance."
"As have we Elves." A hint of a smile creased Haldir's lips. "We wish you no harm, Captain, only passage."
Faramir nodded. "You understand I cannot afford to be lenient. Give me a moment to think." And he moved away.
Haldir turned from the Rangers and faced his Galadhrim. Hisael, the leader of the scouts, stood before him.
"When can we expect to leave Ithilien?" she asked. Haldir sighed. Hisael was an older Elf, much older than he was and counted as wise. Many years she had spent in her Lady's service and had ventured through the Wild, though no warrior was she. As a scout she excelled and Haldir relied on her keen sight and mind.
She stared up at him now, her face harried. Haldir put his hand on her shoulder.
"I do not know, but it seems cruel to leave them so swiftly."
"They are few in number."
"Yes and I worry for them."
"Why?" Hisael asked and she glanced over his shoulder at the Rangers. "This land is theirs and long have they guarded it. We only seek passage."
"I fear they may not survive the next onslaught."
"Let him call for aid," she said and gestured at Faramir. The man looked pale and humble to Haldir and at once he doubted his ability.
"They do much to delay the foul touch of Mordor."
"Then let them see to it," Hisael lowered her voice and raised a brow. Haldir sensed her anger. Patience was not a trait she often possessed.
"An alliance once existed between Elves and Men," he said at length.
"When the world was younger and kind," Hisael replied. "No more. I fear we must leave before the fall of night. My scouts report evidence of more Orcs in the country and wolves."
"All the more reason for us to stay."
Hisael frowned. "Do not suggest such folly, Haldir."
He turned away from her and her icy tones. The wind dragged his cloak from his shoulders and upon it, a faint voice trickled.
Stand firm, my Captain.
Galadriel's voice slipped into his mind with ease and he felt his thoughts soften. A smile was in her whisper.
There is much for you here and for Hisael. Some good may be done. Offer your assistance.
And her presence faded. Hisael grunted.
"Haldir! You wander whilst your feet stay still."
He faced her. "We will stay."
"What?"
The sun shifted beneath growing clouds and the chill deepened. "I will offer our aid in exchange for passage through their land."
"Why?" She dropped her arms to her sides and steel hardened her eyes. "We might have passed through unseen had you not stopped."
"I judged it to be right," he said.
"There is little trust to be found outside our borders, surely this you know." Hisael nodded at the Rangers. "These men, they may not want your aid."
"But I will offer it."
"Then you are a fool. We our destined to return to our lands by mid-winter."
"We have time." Haldir made to step away but she seized him by the arm.
"My scouts will leave without you then."
She stood stony and obstinate and Haldir felt his frustration grow. "Hisael, you tempt my rage."
"And you stir mine. I will gather my scouts and leave. There is nothing for us here."
Haldir had known Hisael long enough to realize she would not be swayed. He would have to bargain with her.
"Five days."
"Never."
"Four."
"The Lady would disapprove."
Haldir straightened. He had caught her. "Oh, but she does approve."
Hisael's grip on his arm slackened and she dropped her eyes.
"You would disobey the Lady?" Haldir asked. Hisael refused to meet his gaze. "You would question her wisdom."
She glanced at the Rangers who stood in the shade. Her chest rose under a deep breath. "You have three days. That is all I will give you."
"They speak in whispers."
"What do they say?"
"I do not trust them."
Faramir watched his men as they clustered about like dried leaves on the forest floor. Suspicion churned in their eyes and glances. Worry. It filled the small glade and tainted the air. Mistrust lay between Men and Elves. For centuries it had gnawed at their dormant alliances until all was forgotten.
But Faramir was a wiser man and he did not let distrust break away what respect he held for the Elves. Mithrandir often spoke of them and he knew the wizard was a great friend of their kind.
Wise and gracious, he had said. Those that they smiled upon were fortunate.
Haldir and his company were not spies of Mordor. Nor did they wish him harm, this he knew. But should he trust them?
Damrod was at his side then. The man glanced once at the Elves and back to his Captain.
"What news?" Faramir asked.
"None, my lord. But what is to be done?"
"I will allow them passage."
"Are you certain?"
"We are outnumbered, we cannot think to fight them or retain them here."
Damrod shook his head. "My lord-
"What is to be done then? They are no spies and once were great friends of those that came before us. Recall the second half of our force that now stays to the south. They may have news of the Elves' coming."
"Yes, my lord." He drew his hood over his head and melted into the shadows. Faramir sighed and his breath coated the air. Evening raced over Ithilien.
"Captain?" Haldir approached him followed by a few of his company.
Faramir stepped closer. "My lord."
"I understand your hesitancy to accept our presence," the Elf said, "but I should like to offer you our aid. If you will allow us passage through your wood, we will stay with you for three days and help you in anyway we can. Surely, that proves our sincerity."
Temptation lured him away from reason. It would be simple to give in to the Elf's request, but not safe.
"I mean little offense, my lord, but you must provide me with greater proof of your sincerity. How should it be if I let a strange company into my lands? The darkness of Mordor reaches far."
"But it does not reach fair Lorien," the female Elf replied. Anger strangled her voice.
Faramir offered her a polite smile. "And what is your name, lady?"
"Hisael I am called," she replied. "But you shall call me little, Gondorian. Do you understand the insults you lay upon us, the Firstborn? I have entered Minas Tirith when its people welcomed ours. Has the White City grown cold?"
"Forgive me, lady." Faramir bowed his head as he would to a lady at court. Hisael appeared mollified.
"I understand your intent, Captain," Haldir said. "Long have I guarded the borders of my land with such wariness. If you will not accept our help, then what is it you wish? Are we to be detained?"
Faramir straightened. His chest tightened. The Elves did outnumber his Rangers and Haldir knew it. Accepting their help would allow him to watch them and delay them at the very least. Keeping the Elves closer for a few days would be better than letting them roam free throughout Ithilien. By that time his entire force would be combined and could retain the Elves if need be.
And he could certainly use the aid.
Faramir knew his choices were few. He leaned upon his sword and stifled a sigh.
"Three days you say?" he asked. Haldir nodded. "Very well, my lord. It is agreed."