Voronwë regarded his daughter, Nimwen, with a guarded look. She was his youngest, the last of his children. As such he'd left Gondor for Ithilien in hopes of building a future for her there. The aged man had to admit that she had done well in befriending the Lady of the elves. But the time had come for her to look further ahead. "My daughter, there is a matter I must discuss with you," Voronwë told his child.
"Father, you have my attention." Nimwen sat before him with expectation shining in her eyes. It would be a lie to say she was not aware of what her father wished to say to her. Yet she knew it to be the way of the world thus did not shy away from it. "What is it you wish to make me aware of?"
"Nimwen, the time for childish pursuits has come to pass. You are a woman now in all but deed," the father started. "Your mother would have taken pride in seeing you so. But she is not here, and I am left with the task." A duty he did not relish in, but one he would fulfil with dignity.
Nimwen bowed her head in acknowledgement. She knew well what would follow. The time had come for her to finally hear the name of the man who would take her into his house. Voronwë brought her hand in his and the eyes of the young woman rose to him once more. "Father?" She could read the pleased look on his face well enough to know he though himself a victor in that instant.
"The Steward of Gondor himself has come to me with this request," the man told her, clearly pleased. "He asks for my permission to court you."
With those words, Nimwen's world tipped off its axis. A deafening silence followed the statement, young Nimwen too shocked to utter one single sound. The Steward of Gondor? Why? She could not understand. "What have you said to him?" The man had barely even looked upon her at all.
"I have accepted." Thus he's sealed the fate of his child. "It is grand a thing, my darling. He is a good man, of strong character. His family and lineage is a noble one. Should you receive his suit, you will be provided for your entire life. He offers security." How important a thing that was in times such as theirs.
What of love? Did he offer that also? Nimwen had seen the Steward but few times. And always, always his eyes had been darkened with shadows she knew not the origin of. Such a man scared her. Those eyes reflected an unhappy soul. But maybe not unkind. It would be unjust to refuse the man a chance. "Since all had been spoken for, I have to honour those words." If she deemed him unfit, she would refuse. If not, the Valar had made it so and she would live the rest of her days at his side.
Faramir was his given name, Nimwen recalled. The Lady Éowyn had spoken highly of him. And more than once had she seen the Steward look upon the Lady with a certain light in his eyes. It seemed nothing less than strange for him to ask after her. Yet she was compelled to offer this chance. After all, what evil could come from one harmless meeting? As her father had pointed out, the Steward was a man who held on tightly to his honour, so he'd proven time and time again.
If nothing else a friendship could be wrought. Nimwen did like to be optimistic when such a possibility applied to the situation. Thankfully at the moment she could be just so. The Steward of Gondor wished to court her. She wished to know more of him. All seemed very fine.
As I promised, here you have the first drabble of the series centered around Faramir and his lady love. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I liked writing it.